


The Princess, the Knight and the Dragon

by intouchwithhumanity



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Adult Richie Tozier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon What Canon, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Gets Divorced, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Gay Disasters, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Memory Loss, Parents, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Reddie, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Romance, Slow Burn, but if they could, eddie kaspbrak has a child, i know pennywise made them not have kids, richie goes to New York City, then what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22350361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intouchwithhumanity/pseuds/intouchwithhumanity
Summary: It is dead, for good this time. Eddie’s recovered from his injuries and is preparing to go home.Not wanting to let Eddie out of his life just yet, Richie ends up coming to New York with him, where he will meet Eddie’s soon-to-be-ex-wife ... and the daughter he failed to mention.Basically this is a slow-burn bad-at-feelings extravaganza. I became super intrigued with the idea that Eddie had a child with Myra and how Richie would cope with that.There’s fluff, there will be angst, awkward repressed gay romance, domestic Reddie fun, parent Reddie fun, and just general shenanigans.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Myra Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 181
Kudos: 423





	1. Moving To New York

It was dead. The Losers had defeated It again, for good this time and miraculously, all seven had all come out alive, if a little worse for wear. Eddie had it the worst; he’d been in hospital for a couple of weeks recovering following the final fight. 

Richie had sat with him for the duration of his stay, keeping him company on the long and dull evenings, which didn’t seem nearly so long and dull when they were together, even though Eddie couldn’t speak much at first.

Richie regaled him with stories and jokes, new and original material which he wanted to try on his return to stand-up comedy. Eddie wasn’t so forthcoming with his own stories, but he was quick to quip with Richie at each opportunity, to insult him, to keep remembering things about him from their shared, half-forgotten childhood. 

Eddie saved his energy for his evening calls to his wife, where Richie always left the room. He said it was to give them privacy, but it was far more to do with Richie finding it impossibly painful to listen to Eddie on the phone to the woman he married. 

Gradually, Eddie’s strength returned, and Richie was so deeply relieved to know, really know, that Eddie was going to be alright. 

When Eddie was finally discharged, he turned to Richie as they stepped out into the daylight. ‘I guess this is goodbye for now, isn’t it, Trashmouth?’

‘Huh?’ Richie slurred groggily. He’d not slept in a bed for so long. He wasn’t sure what day it was. 

‘Well, won’t you be going back to LA?’ Eddie asked, but it didn’t sound like a question. 

Richie eyed Eddie’s face in profile against the sun. ‘Oh. I guess,’ he said quietly, then coughed. ‘And I suppose you’ll be going back to your wife in New York.’

Eddie grunted. ‘I’m not sure that she should be my wife anymore.’ 

Snapping his head around, Richie spluttered, ‘What?’ 

‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Eddie said, narrowing his eyes against the blinding rays, ‘and I don’t want to be with her. I don’t love her. And life is too fucking short to spend unhappily married to her.’

Richie’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re going to divorce her?’ 

‘There aren't many other ways to stop being married to someone,’ Eddie said flatly. ‘So, yeah. I’m going to divorce her.’

‘Fuck,’ Richie cracked. 

Eddie flashed his eyes at him suspiciously. ‘Why do you care? I mean,’ he chuckled, ‘I would understand if you’d met her, but —’

Hastily backtracking, Richie joked, ‘I just can’t believe you’re going to be married  _ and  _ divorced before I’ve even had one fucking wedding. So selfish of you.’ 

‘Always the bridesmaid, Rich?’ Eddie snickered.

‘It’s a tragedy,’ Richie said melodramatically, clutching his chest. ‘We both know that I would look sensational in a white dress.’ 

Eddie snorted, ‘Either strapless or backless, I’m assuming.’ 

Miming drawing the curves on his chest, Richie corrected, ‘Sweetheart neckline.’

‘Princess cut?’ 

‘And the same cut for the ring,’ Richie added. ‘I’m a classy bitch.’

‘Since when?’ 

Richie nudged him, ‘Since forever. Richie Trashmouth Tozier: pure class.’

‘Pure crass, more like,’ Eddie laughed. ‘Or pure ass.’

‘I didn’t realise you’d noticed my ass,’ Richie chuckled, winking. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. ‘Not what I meant.’ 

‘Sure it wasn’t.’ 

Except he was only teasing in an attempt to conceal the very real twist in his stomach as he considered that Eddie Kaspbrak was about to walk back out of his life as volcanically as he had erupted back into it. 

Suddenly, he blurted, ‘I don’t want to go back to LA.’ 

Eddie’s brow furrowed, ‘You don’t?’

It was partly true and partly false. The reality was, Richie didn’t want to go anywhere that Eddie wasn’t, and Eddie was going to be in New York, just about as far away from LA as he could be without leaving the United States entirely. 

Richie stammered for a moment, then settled on a compromise on the truth. ‘Not by myself. Not after everything.’

‘Oh,’ Eddie said, somewhat awkwardly. 

There was a short silence, and Richie scuffed his shoes on the sidewalk. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy a trip to the west coast?’ 

‘Divorce to file on the east coast, Rich,’ Eddie reminded. 

‘Fuck. Right,’ Richie scoffed at himself. ‘Sorry, I’m fucking tired. Never mind. Stupid suggestion anyway.’ 

Eddie bit his lip. ‘Unless you wanted to come to New York with me?’

Richie’s heart flipped at the mere thought. Internally, he chastised himself for being so hopelessly smitten. Eddie didn’t mean it  _ that _ way. Still, it was an invitation, and Richie was going to find a way to accept as nonchalantly as he could muster. 

‘Fuck yes,’ Richie gushed, breaking into a smile, then packing it away again, clearing his throat. So much for nonchalant. He started to feel the heat burning in his cheeks, but it dissipated when he saw the smirk rippling on Eddie’s face. ‘Always wanted to see the Big Apple.’ 

‘Just a tip,’ Eddie said, ‘real New Yorkers don’t call it the Big Apple. I’m going to have to educate you.’

Richie’s lips twisted, ‘Oh, so you’re planning on making a real New Yorker out of me? How long will that take?’ Forever, he hoped. 

Eddie surveyed him and hummed, ‘Depends how good a student you are.’ 

‘Got a 4.0 from Derry High School,’ Richie beamed. 

‘Then dropped out of UCLA,’ Eddie commented. ‘So, I guess we’ll see.’ 

Richie smiled, happiness bubbling in his chest. ‘Yeah, I guess we will.’ 

—

‘So, what exactly is the game plan here?’ Richie asked, buckling into his seat of the New York yellow cab. 

He tried to remember the last time he bothered to buckle up in a taxi, and failed. It was second nature when he was with Eddie; he knew Eddie would give him a well-earned lecture on the dangers of not wearing a seatbelt otherwise. 

‘I don’t know,’ Eddie admitted. ‘I suppose that I’ll tell her I want a divorce and that, ideally, I’d like it to be done without lawyers and too much expense. We got a pre-nup, so most things should be pretty simple.’ 

‘Of course you got a pre-nup,’ Richie muttered. 

‘She’ll kick me out so then I guess we’ll go and look for an apartment.’

Richie’s eyes widened, ‘We?’ 

Eddie twitched, ‘Well, yeah. As in, you’ll help me look for one. Good to have a second opinion and I imagine you’d rather stay with me than be stuck in a hotel indefinitely.’

‘Are you sure you trust my taste?’ Richie joked, hoping that he didn’t sound as strangled as he felt at the prospect of basically  _ moving in  _ with Eddie. 

‘Sadly, you’re the only available option,’ Eddie sighed. ‘Although,’ he squeaked, hands balling into fists, ‘I can think of someone else who might have something to say about it all.’ 

Richie’s eyes flicked over the cityscape blossoming around him. ‘Who?’ 

‘My daughter.’ 

The taxi screeched to a halt in time with Richie’s reaction, as though it were his own foot on the brake pedal. ‘Your  _ what _ ?’ 

Pulling a strangely guilty expression, Eddie glanced over at him. ‘Yeah. I have a daughter.’

Gawping, Richie stared at him. ‘Jesus Christ. Well, thanks for the heads up. We’re, like, five fucking minutes from where you live and you decide to only tell me  _ now,  _ after we’ve been in Derry for two weeks and taken a fucking flight to New York City, that you, Eddie Kaspbrak, have birthed a fucking kid? A kid that I, a completely inappropriate excuse for an adult, am going to now meet and possibly sometimes cohabit with?’ 

‘I should have said something,’ Eddie nodded solemnly, cursing himself.

‘You think?’ Richie swiped the back of his hand across his sheening brow. 

Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted over into the middle seat, hastily rebuckling. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to be a big deal. I didn’t talk about her when we got back to Derry because I couldn’t bear to think about what might happen to her if I didn’t come home again, and then after the hospital, I didn’t want to give you a reason to not come to New York when I know you don’t want to be in LA.’ 

Richie loved and hated to have Eddie so close to him. Close enough to smell the starch of his pressed clothes, to feel the heat of his skin, to see the whorls and loops of his fingerprints as he gesticulated.

‘Don’t panic, Rich,’ Eddie advised unhelpfully. ‘She’s a good kid. She’ll like you.’

Scoffing, Richie said, ‘Nobody fucking likes me.’

‘I do,’ Eddie said firmly, and his assured sincerity sent a trickle of warmth through Richie’s body. 

Richie squirmed in his seat. ‘Then maybe I don’t trust  _ your _ taste.’ 

Eddie hummed. ‘Good point. You haven’t even met my wife yet.’ 

The taxi drew to a halt on the kerbside. Richie swallowed, ‘I’m about to.’ Then he popped the door and climbed out, fumbling for cash in his back pockets to hand over to the cabbie. 

Eddie climbed out after him and they grabbed their luggage from the trunk, before steadily walking up the path and into the apartment block. They said nothing as they ascended in the escalator, and the silence was mortifying to both, since it so rarely came between them. 

Key in hand, Eddie approached the door and Richie held his breath. 

‘Eddie-bear!’ Myra cried gleefully, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising hug. He seemed to be swallowed into her. 

‘Sonia?’ Richie sputtered, flustered as he stared at the woman who currently embraced Eddie. 

‘Excuse me?’ the woman quizzed, releasing Eddie and peering into the hallway to notice Richie for the first time. 

Pointedly, Eddie glared at him. ‘Myra,’ he hissed.

Shaking his head, Richie offered his apologies, ‘Sorry. You reminded me of, uh,’ he flicked his eyes at Eddie and laughed, ‘an old girlfriend. The one I lost my virginity to, actually.’ 

‘Alright,’ Eddie warned him, eyes flashing. ‘Richie, this is my wife, Myra. Myra, this is Richie. He’s,’ he blinked, ‘an old friend.’ 

Richie smiled wanly. ‘Emphasis on ‘old’, though I know I don’t look it.’ 

Myra’s brows came together as the trio ushered inside. ‘You look terribly familiar,’ she mumbled, then snapped her fingers. ‘Oh, Eddie, doesn’t he look like that godawful foul-mouthed comedian you always go on about?’ 

Bursting out laughing, Richie almost doubled over. ‘Oh, really? Always goes on about, eh?’

Eddie was crimson. ‘Shut  _ up _ ,’ he hissed, and neither Myra nor Richie knew which of them he was talking to. 

‘What’s so funny?’ Myra asked, her voice too high, teeth gritted. 

‘Myra, my dear,’ Richie slammed an unwelcome hand onto her back. ‘I hate to inform you that I actually  _ am  _ that godawful foul-mouthed comedian. Well, it’s actually trash-mouthed, but same difference. Richie Tozier, at your service.’ He mocked a bow. 

Myra seemed embarrassed that she had directly insulted Richie’s work to his face, but didn’t apologise for it, preferring to gloss over the faux-pas to the more pressing questions in her mind. ‘And you know each other? Eddie-bear, you never mentioned.’ She batted her eyelashes innocently. 

‘It had been so long since we’d seen each other,’ Eddie explained feebly. ‘But we actually went to school together. When we were kids, I mean. Not college. Then we bumped into each other while I’ve been in Maine.’

‘Oh,’ Myra nodded. ‘Well, you can tell me all about it. Dying to know all about your trip. But first, can I fetch anyone a coffee?’ 

‘Please, Mrs K,’ Richie said, then winced at the old nickname. 

Eddie grimaced and eked out, ‘I’m good. Thanks.’

Myra disappeared into the kitchen. 

Richie bounded over to Eddie like an excitable puppy. ‘Oh my God, Eddie.’

‘What?’ 

His voice low, almost unable to contain his giggles, Richie whispered, ‘That woman is the spit of your mother. Fucking hell. I know we all should have expected that you’d grow up with mommy issues but you really took the biscuit.’ 

Eddie clenched his jaw, ‘Fuck you. At least I fucking found a woman. Unlike you.’ 

‘Who says I’m looking for one?’ Richie shrugged, then realised the painful truth in his insinuation, and covered it with, ‘I still have your actual mom. Good to know I’ll have a backup once you get your divorce.’

‘Why the fuck did I think bringing you was a good idea?’ Eddie shook his head in disbelief. 

Richie changed the subject, surveying his surroundings. ‘This is a nice place, Eds.’ 

‘Don’t get used to it,’ Eddie huffed. ‘And don’t call me Eds.’

There was a pattering of footsteps behind them. Richie froze, his expression terrified and icy. It softened as he watched Eddie turn and beam a smile, crouching to the floor and extending his arms. ‘Hello, my love,’ he greeted, in just about the softest and kindest version of Eddie’s voice that Richie had ever heard. 

‘Daddy, you're finally home!’ the girl cried happily, flinging herself into Eddie’s arms and dotting kisses on the apple of his cheek.

He hoisted himself up with a heaving groan, cradling his child in his arms. ‘Yeah, I’m home, darling.’ Pouting, he said, ‘Sorry that I’ve been away so long.’ 

‘It’s okay as long as you never do it again,’ the girl scowled, poking her finger into his chin. Then she looked over at the strange man also occupying her hallway. ‘Hello,’ she said brightly. 

‘Hi,’ Richie choked out, staring at her, at this tiny little person with Eddie’s eyes and Eddie’s dimples and Eddie’s scolding tone, with her very own button nose and brazen smile and blondish hair. 

Carefully, tentatively, as though not trying to spook either of them, Eddie stepped slightly closer to him. ‘This is my friend, Richie.’ 

The girl’s eyes scanned his face, taking him in. ‘I like his glasses,’ she decided. ‘What’s Richie short for?’ 

‘Richard.’ Richie said steadily, and saying his own name seemed to ground him into the room. ‘Do you know what Eddie’s short for?’

‘Edward,’ she said smugly. 

Richie smiled, ‘No, it’s because he’s only got little legs.’

‘Ha ha,’ Eddie said sarcastically. 

The girl grinned toothily and laughed. ‘You’re funny. Do you know what my name is short for?’ 

Puffing out his cheeks, Richie admitted, ‘Well, I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me your name first.’ He stuck his hand out for her to shake. ‘Richard-also-known-as-Richie.’

She took his hand eagerly; it dwarfed hers. ‘Margaret-also-known-as-Maggie,’ she rattled off. 

Richie’s smile dropped as the shock thwacked his face like a mallet. His eyes stinging, he tried to avoid eye contact with Eddie, who he could feel watching him curiously, clearly not making, never making, the connection. 

‘Maggie,’ Richie repeated gently. ‘That’s a lovely name. Actually, it was,’ he hesitated, then conceded, ‘my mother’s name.’

Eddie’s jaw dropped as memories of Maggie Tozier crammed into his conscious. Immediately, he averted his gaze, stomach twisting as he wondered what possessed some deep recess of his brain to churn out the name Maggie when he was naming his daughter. 

‘You don’t look all that like her, though,’ Richie mused. ‘How old are you, Maggie?’ 

She rolled her eyes. ‘Daddy, didn’t you tell Richie  _ anything  _ about me?’ 

Colouring, Eddie lied, ‘I wanted him to have the pleasure of getting to know you all by himself.’ 

Maggie hummed her displeasure, then turned back to Richie. ‘I’m eight,’ she said. 

‘Eight, huh?’ Richie clicked his tongue. ‘You know, I met your daddy when he was about eight years old.’ 

Her face lit up. ‘Really?’ 

Myra returned to the room. ‘Really?’ she echoed, handing Richie his coffee. ‘My Eddie-bear doesn’t talk much about his youth so maybe you can enlighten us all.’ 

Richie flattened his lips, ‘Maybe I can.’ He flashed his eyes dangerously at Eddie, whose face was pleading with him. He took a long, slow sip from the mug. ‘Where should I begin?’


	2. Curveballs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie decides to tell Myra he wants a divorce. To protect Maggie from overhearing, he asks Richie to read her a bedtime story.

‘Rich?’ Eddie whispered into the dim light of the spare bedroom. 

‘Hmm?’ Richie grunted his response. It was his fourth night in the Kaspbrak residence, much to Myra’s chagrin, as she hadn’t exactly warmed to him. In fact, she was deeply wary of him, asking strange and probing questions, confused as to how and why he knew her husband so intimately when she had never met him or heard these stories before.

Eddie shut the door behind himself and tiptoed in. ‘I’m going to talk to Myra about the divorce.’ 

‘Now?’ Richie burbled.

He nodded, toying with the drawstring of his pyjamas. ‘I need to get it over with or I’ll chicken out forever.’

‘You got this, buddy,’ Richie assured. 

Exhaling heavily, Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. ‘It’s so surreal. I know it’s the right thing for me, but I am worried for Maggie. It’s going to uproot her whole life.’

Uncomfortable with the solemnity of the conversation, Richie went to sit beside him. It was easier to be serious when he didn’t have to look at him. ‘What’s best for you is what’s best for Maggie, if we’re talking about you being happy.’

‘Maybe,’ Eddie breathed. 

‘Definitely,’ Richie insisted, patting a hand onto Eddie’s thigh and immediately regretting it, until he felt Eddie’s hand rest on top of his own. It made his heart stutter in his chest like he was still a teenager. 

Eddie twisted his head ever so slightly towards Richie’s. ‘Thanks.’ 

Richie mirrored him. ‘Don’t mention it.’ 

Eddie sighed through his nose. ‘I don’t want Maggie to overhear the conversation. Would you mind going and reading her a storybook or something? Just until she falls asleep.’ 

Richie tried to conceal his panic, and hoped that his palm didn’t sweat obviously onto Eddie’s slacks. ‘Sure, no problem.’ 

‘You know, she does like you,’ Eddie encouraged. ‘Maggie, I mean.’ 

‘Does she?’ Richie asked, the corners of his mouth drooping uncertainly. ‘How do you know?’ 

Eddie smiled. ‘She told me. She’s never scared to tell me what she thinks.’ 

‘Just like her dad,’ Richie jostled against him. 

‘With you, maybe,’ Eddie corrected. ‘Myra’s another story. You’ve seen sweet Myra, hostess Myra. There’s another side to her. It’s fucking terrifying to tell her what you think.’ 

Richie grinned, fully twisting his body to face Eddie. ‘Well, if she’s going to give you nightmares, just come and cuddle up with me and I’ll read you a storybook too.’ 

‘Fuck off, Tozier,’ Eddie chided, slapping his hand against Richie’s chest. ‘Although it is doubtful that she’ll let me sleep in our bed tonight.’ 

Burying the unwarranted excitement that his joke stimulated, Richie asked, ‘So which side of the bed will I be tucking you into? Will you need a nightlight? Teddy bear for Eddie-bear?’

Eddie tried to fight his smile and failed. ‘You are the fucking worst.’ 

‘Seriously though,’ Richie said, ‘do you want the bed? I can sleep on the couch.’

‘Don’t be stupid. You’re a guest.’ Eddie waved his hand dismissively as he stood. ‘Right. I better do this thing.’

Richie stood too, feeling compelled to, like his heart was tied to Eddie’s with an invisible string. He hastily remembered his promise to read to Maggie. ‘What book should I read? The only one I have with me is Bill’s latest and, while entertaining, might have the opposite effect to the one we’re going for.’ 

Eddie laughed darkly at the idea. ‘She’ll tell you. Don’t worry.’ 

‘Alright, Spaghetti,’ Richie saluted mockingly. ‘See you on the other side. Good luck.’ 

To Richie’s surprise, Eddie embraced him, tension rife in his shoulders and arms. ‘I’m actually really fucking glad you’re here, Rich.’ 

‘Me too,’ Richie said honestly, before the usual embarrassment jolted a joke from his mouth. ‘I mean, your wife is a real bitch but she sure can cook.’ 

Eddie snorted and let him go. ‘Gee, thanks.’

Feeling like he’d killed the moment a little, Richie tried to fix things. ‘And your daughter is fucking great. Still can’t believe you named her Maggie, though.’

‘Yeah,’ Eddie said, looking at his shoes. ‘What a coincidence, eh?’ 

Richie’s upper lip curled. ‘I don’t think it’s a coincidence.’ 

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, lashes dancing shadows over his cheeks, still faintly freckled. ‘Maggie’s room is second on the left,’ he said quietly, and then he exited. 

— 

‘Knock knock,’ Richie said, tapping lightly on the wood of Maggie’s door as he pushed inside.

She sat bolt upright in the bed, hugging her knees. ‘Who’s there?’ 

Richie grinned, ‘Uh, Amish.’ 

‘Amish who?’ 

‘You don’t look like a shoe,’ Richie said, pulling his glasses down his nose and knitting his eyebrows together.

She giggled and rocked her head back. ‘That’s terrible.’ 

‘Then why are you laughing?’ Richie pointed out, pushing his spectacles back up his nose. He went to sit on the end of the bed. ‘You know, your daddy does that all the time.’

‘Does what?’ she blinked slowly. 

‘Says I’m not funny even when I’ve made him laugh.’ 

Maggie smiled. ‘You make daddy laugh a _lot.’_

Richie couldn’t help the giddy blush in his cheeks. ‘You reckon?’ he asked and she nodded. ‘Well, that’s good. Your daddy was the first person to hear so many of my jokes.’ 

‘Mommy says you get paid to tell jokes now,’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘Which doesn’t sound like a real job.’

Scrunching up his nose, Richie admitted, ‘It doesn’t always feel like one either, but that is what I do.’ 

She twisted her lips. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

Throat constricting, Richie croaked a string of nonsense sounds. ‘Well, your daddy invited me to come and stay with him and you and your mom for a bit after our trip and I said yes.’ 

‘I meant,’ she sighed, rolling her eyes, ‘what are you doing here in my bedroom?’

‘Oh!’ Richie slapped his palm to his forehead. ‘Your daddy thought it might be nice if I read you a bedtime story.’ 

She retreated, neck contracting as she pursed her lips. ‘But daddy always reads me my bedtime story.’ 

‘Ah, but you see, I am the master of bedtime stories,’ Richie promised, hand on his heart. ‘You know, telling a joke is just like telling a story, so it’s almost like storytelling is my job.’ 

Intrigued, her eyes flicked over at the bookshelf and back to Richie. ‘Will you give the characters different voices? Daddy does silly voices.’ 

Richie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh, he does _not_.’

Indignantly, she nodded. ‘He does so. They’re not always very good. He does a very bad British impression and a croaky old lady voice and a really pish-posh voice and an old pospet—’ she struggled, ‘pospettor?’ 

‘Ah say, ah say,’ Richie bellowed. ‘Ya wouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout the ol’ prospectah, now, would ya?’ 

Maggie’s face glowed, staring up at Richie with complete wonder. ‘You do the voices too!’ 

Nostalgically smirking, his voice fond, Richie asked, ‘Where do you think your daddy got them from?’ 

‘He stole them from you?’ she gasped. 

‘Nah,’ Richie dismissed. ‘They were a gift. A fact I will remind him of later. At length.’ 

Maggie shuffled and reached into her bedside drawer. She pulled out a green hardback book and handed it to Richie. ‘You can read me this one.’ 

‘Sure,’ Richie agreed, taking the book from her hands and surveying the cover. ‘The Little Ghost,’ he read, then asked, ‘Is this a favourite?’ 

She shook her head. ‘No. It’s not one of my special books.’

Idly flicking open to the first page, Richie quizzed, ‘Special books?’ 

‘My princess stories,’ Maggie said proudly.

‘Like fairy tales?’ Richie asked. ‘Cinderella? Snow White?’ 

Maggie wrinkled her nose. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘Everyone has those stories. My princess stories are _special_. Nobody else has them.’ 

Richie cocked an eyebrow. ‘How do you know?’

Bragging, she explained, ‘Because my daddy made them up. And he didn’t give them to anyone else. So I’m the only one who has them.’

Heart aching in his chest, Richie could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘Your daddy writes stories for you?’ 

Kicking off the duvet, Maggie climbed out of the bed and went to her bookshelf. On the lowest one was a box full of little yellow exercise books; there could easily have been a dozen. She picked out one and held it tightly against her chest as she plodded back to the bed. 

‘He didn’t write them down at first,’ she explained. ‘Daddy just made them up in his head and told them to me. But the princess ones were so good I wanted to hear them again so I asked him to write them down.’ 

‘Can I see?’ Richie asked hesitantly. 

Maggie held it closer to her body, if that was even possible. ‘Do you pinky swear that you will be very, very careful with it?’ 

Richie held up three fingers on one hand. ‘Scout’s honour.’ 

‘And your hands are clean?’ she narrowed her eyes. ‘Your fingers have distrumptive oils.’ 

‘Destructive,’ Richie corrected. ‘You know, you are so similar to your daddy. I promise that my hands are clean.’ 

She beamed happily, ‘You think I’m like my daddy?’ 

‘I do,’ Richie nodded, and as he did, she thrusted the book into his lap. As though it were made of fragile, ancient parchment, Richie precariously lifted the book, seeing the crinkled, well-thumbed pages. 

He thought about Eddie sitting down where he was at this very moment, night after night, telling stories to his little girl for however many years. Then he would go to sleep and wake up beside a woman he didn’t love, endure a day of work at a job he didn’t love, go to corporate dinners and school meetings and Myra’s social gatherings with people he didn’t love.

Yet, he could come home at the end of it all, sit on the end of his daughter’s bed, and spend a few precious minutes with someone Richie could tell Eddie loved with every cell in his body. For some reason, Eddie trusted Richie to take his place on the one night when he couldn’t be there. That meant a lot. 

He opened the book. ‘Princess Lily and the Dragon’s Lair.’

‘This is the biggest one,’ Maggie said. ‘Most of them are much shorter, but daddy said he had lots and lots of ideas for this one. They all have the same characters, though.’

‘Are they good characters?’ Richie asked, admiring Eddie’s impossibly neat handwriting. 

Enthusiastically, Maggie nodded. ‘Yeah! There’s Princess Lily Fusilli and her father, the wicked King. Then there’s her cousin, Prince Sam.’ 

Richie stared at her. ‘Did you say the princess is called Lily Fusilli?’ 

‘Yeah, because she has long blonde hair like twirls of pasta,’ Maggie said, twisting a finger through one of her own locks. 

‘Does she now?’ Richie squeaked. 

Maggie continued, ‘Prince Sam is in love with a good witch called Holly Ringwand, but there is a kind and clever carpenter called Jason who loves her too.’

Under his breath, Richie whispered, ‘Molly Ringwald.’ 

‘Then there’s Tyler,’ Maggie went on, ‘the wise man who lives on the farm and his best friend Danny Boy who can talk to birds.’

Hastily, Richie’s eyes began to flick through the text, searching for these names, these characters. 

‘But my favourite character is Lily’s best friend, Lucky Steven,’ Maggie threw her hands down on the duvet emphatically. 

Richie latched onto a few precious sentences which contained the name Steven over and over again. Stunned, he raised a palm to cover his mouth, trembling ever so slightly. 

Maggie picked at the duvet cover to create little peaks and valleys, like a mountain range in cotton. ‘Lucky Steven used to be the court jester but in this story he becomes a knight because they all have to go and fight the evil dragon.’ 

‘Maggie.’ Richie smacked his lips together. ‘I know this story.’

‘You can’t know this story,’ Maggie denied. ‘Only daddy knows it.’

Shaking his head, Richie inhaled raggedly. ‘I know it too. I can prove it.’

Suspicious, Maggie folded her arms. ‘Alright.’ 

‘Prince Sam’s younger brother is taken by the dragon at the beginning. He asks Lily for help finding him,’ Richie guessed. 

For a moment, Maggie looked shaken, then she rolled her eyes. ‘That’s on the first page. You just read that.’ 

Richie huffed and tried again, ‘Princess Lily gets hurt when they first try and fight the dragon.’ 

Slowly, Maggie nodded, then confirmed in a small voice, ‘She hurts her arm so the wicked king locks her away for a while.’ 

‘The good witch almost defeats the dragon by herself but she gets,’ Richie hesitated, unsure of how to interpret exactly what happened.

‘Frozen,’ Maggie encouraged.

‘Frozen,’ Richie agreed, ‘and the carpenter has to give her true love’s kiss.’ 

Maggie clapped her hands over her mouth. ‘You _do_ know this story! How do you know this story?’

Richie laughed at the glorious absurdity of it all. ‘Because I’m Lucky Steven.’ 

‘Huh?’ Maggie frowned. ‘But your name is Richie and you’re not a knight and dragons aren’t even real.’

‘Okay,’ Richie sighed, ‘well, Lucky Steven is _based_ on me. He wears glasses and does silly voices and makes a lot of jokes about the wicked king, doesn’t he?’

Shocked, Maggie blurted, ‘Can you read it to me?’

Biting his lip, Richie checked, ‘Are you sure?’ 

‘Yes,’ she said, snuggling underneath her blankets and slamming her head down onto the pillow. ‘You’re Lucky Steven,’ she whispered, awed, blinking up at him.

Unsure if he was prepared to relive this story, but more curious to know what lay within the pages, Richie turned back to the beginning and began to read. ‘Once upon a time, in a secret, lost kingdom, the Princess Lily Fusilli had received terrible news. A fearful dragon was loose.’ 


	3. Walking Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie finishes reading the story and finds Eddie.

‘‘Tell me, good witch,’ hollered Lucky Steven, ‘will I still be terribly handsome when I am older?’’ Richie read. ‘The good witch replied that he would grow into his looks, and the Princess Lily laughed at him. Yet the Prince Sam was not laughing, and he stood amidst the group and said, ‘Friends, we m-must make a s-solemn oath. If ever another d-dragon is loose in the k-k-kingdom, we must return here and f-fight it together.’’ 

He paused, looking over at Maggie, whose eyes were closed, chest rising and falling slowly.

Lowering his voice, he read on, ‘The good witch cast a sacred spell, and the friends stood in a circle. Lucky Steven reached out and took Princess Lily’s hand.’ Steady, a single tear cascaded down his cheek. ‘And they both made their promise. The end.’ 

As quietly as he could manage, he closed the book and replaced it in the box on the lowest shelf of the bookcase, then went to the door and turned out the light switch. ‘Goodnight, Maggie.’ 

Drained from reading what could only be described as Eddie’s crazed fairytale account of their childhood battle with It, Richie resolved to make himself a hot chocolate before he went to bed himself. He padded down the hallway and noticed a light on in the kitchen.

‘Eddie?’ Richie said as he wandered into the room. 

Eddie didn’t turn around. His knuckles gripped tightly at the lip of the sink. ‘Hey, Richie,’ he said, voice hoarse. 

‘Maggie’s asleep,’ Richie informed, going to the fridge and helping himself to milk. 

‘Thanks,’ he said, letting go with one hand and dragging it down his face, smudging the tear tracks which bled there. ‘Could you hear anything?’ 

Richie put two mugs of milk into the microwave. ‘Not a word.’

Eddie sniffed, ‘Good.’

Desperately, Richie wanted to ask Eddie about his stories, about Lily Fusilli and her many adventures, about how Eddie’s subconscious had half-remembered enough of Richie Tozier to immortalise him as the wisecracking Lucky Steven. However, it wasn’t the right time. 

Eddie was clearly upset, had just told his wife that he wanted a divorce after fifteen years of marriage and was facing the prospect of a brand new life for himself and his daughter. Richie’s questions, his inevitable teasing to conceal crippling heartache, would have to wait. 

‘Eds?’ Richie went over to him, offering a mug of cocoa. ‘Here.’ 

Taking the drink, Eddie flicked his reddened eyes briefly to meet Richie’s. ‘Thanks.’ 

‘Come on. Let’s get you to bed.’ Richie decided, placing a guiding hand on his shoulder and wheeling him around. 

‘I’m on the couch,’ Eddie corrected. 

Richie refuted, ‘Fuck that. You deserve a fucking bed and you’ll take the spare. And you don’t want Mags to wake up in the morning and see you sleeping on the couch, do you?’

Eddie wrinkled his nose. ‘Don’t call her Mags.’

They went into the spare bedroom. Eddie set his hot chocolate down on the end table and crawled onto the bed, smacking his head against the headboard. 

Rubbing his eyes, dry and tired, Eddie admitted, ‘I didn’t expect to feel so sad.’ 

Feeling awkward, Richie mooched over to the other side of the bed and sat down, swinging his legs up. ‘Sad?’ 

‘Yeah. I mean, I don’t only feel sad. I’m relieved. I’m scared. I feel,’ he struggled, a rogue few tears dripping from his eyes, ‘fucking _free_. But I expected all that, even if it’s overwhelming. I didn’t expect sad.’ 

Richie slurped at his cocoa, hating to see Eddie cry. ‘That doesn’t mean it’s the wrong decision.’ 

‘I know,’ Eddie sighed. ‘I guess it’s just hard to admit that I’ve let myself be so unhappy for so fucking long.’

‘It’s not all your fault,’ Richie said quietly. ‘It stole our fucking childhoods from us, took our memories. We didn’t remember how to be happy. We didn’t remember how it felt.’ 

Clenching his jaw, Eddie turned to him. ‘We?’ 

Annoyed with himself, Richie met Eddie’s gaze, but said nothing.

‘Richie,’ Eddie urged quietly. 

Finishing his hot chocolate, Richie mumbled, ‘I'll leave you to sleep.’

‘You’re not sleeping here?’ Eddie asked, surprised. 

A flash of confusion registered on Richie’s face. ‘No, uh,’ he stumbled, trying to come up with an excuse. ‘I mean, you’re a nightmare to share a bed with, so.’ 

‘I am not!’ Eddie retorted, offended.

Richie rolled his eyes, ‘Yes, you are! You always end up in the middle and splay out like a starfish. For someone so small you take up so much space.’

Cheeks pink and taut, Eddie rebuffed, ‘At least I don’t snore like you.’ 

‘I don’t snore,’ Richie denied as Eddie did an exaggerated impersonation. Having none of it, Richie gesticulated wildly, laughing, ‘You unfold extra fucking limbs. It’s like you turn into all elbows and knees.’

Jabbing his chest, Eddie grinned, ‘You drool.’

‘That was _once_!’ Richie complained, jabbing him back. ‘You’re a cover hog.’ 

‘You’re a radiator,’ Eddie snapped back, and they laughed. 

Conceding, Richie waggled his head, ‘Then I guess it’s good that I’m leaving.’

‘Stay,’ Eddie said firmly. ‘You’re a guest. Myra would be mortified if she found out you slept on the couch.’

Richie’s nose twitched, ‘And I’m guessing she’s already in a bit of a bad mood.’ 

‘You could say that.’ 

Richie shrugged, ‘Alright, then. If you insist.’ He smiled at Eddie, and Eddie smiled back, but it soon wavered. ‘What?’ Richie asked, concerned. 

‘She said I need to be the one to tell Maggie.’ 

Pulling a face, Richie said, ‘Oh. Fuck.’

Eddie’s lower lip trembled, ‘It’s going to break her heart. She won’t understand. She’ll blame me.’ 

‘Whoa, whoa,’ Richie warned, sitting up straight. ‘None of that needs to be true.’ 

‘Do you think she’ll hate me?’ he whispered, and the tears started to fall again.

Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s back, ‘That kid fucking loves you, Eds. She wants to be just like you. She already is a lot like you, and she’s very fucking smart, so if you explain, I think she’ll get it.’ 

He squeezed his palm, and Eddie’s head dropped to rest on Richie’s shoulder. ‘I don’t want to hurt her.’ 

‘It’ll be okay. It’ll be worth it when she gets to see you happy. You’ll be an even better dad than you already are. You’ll get a great apartment. You’ll get a job that was invented after fun. And if you need help, or it gets hard,’ Richie dared, ‘I’ll be here.’

Meekly, Eddie said, ‘You won’t be.’

Richie affirmed, ‘I will, if that’s, you know, what you need.’ He winced, feeling inordinately vulnerable, sure that Eddie would dismiss the idea as ridiculous. 

Eddie pulled his head back far enough to look quizzically at Richie, checking if this was another of Richie’s jokes, one that he didn’t get. ‘What?’

Jostling Eddie’s shoulder jovially, Richie said nonchalantly, ‘Yeah.’ 

Perplexed, Eddie scanned Richie’s face, so close to his own. ‘What about LA?’ 

‘Pretty sure there are still comedians in New York,’ Richie said. ‘Agent should be able to book me some gigs out this way.’

‘Richie,’ Eddie gabbled. ‘Are you serious? You’d do that? Or are you just fucking with me?’ 

Immensely uncomfortable, Richie didn’t want to say something which gave away quite how much Eddie meant to him, but he also had been missing him for his entire adult life, had almost lost him during their time in Derry, and now had been gifted the opportunity to keep knowing him, keep making him laugh and learning who he was now, to be a part of his life, to be honest with him. 

‘I’m not fucking with you.’ Richie’s heart pounded, and he started to ramble, ‘Eddie, it’s not like we’re in a normal situation. Getting a divorce is hard enough on its own, but two weeks ago you almost died when we were fighting against an alien clown with five other friends that we’ve only just started to really remember. That’s a lot to try and do alone and I’d rather know you’re fucking okay.’

Eddie lowered his eyebrows, ‘But I want you to be okay too. You have a life in LA.’ 

‘What life?’ Richie spat. ‘I’ve done fucking nothing worthwhile with my life. I haven’t cared about anyone, not even myself most of the time. But I care about you and if you think having my pure crass trashmouth ass around for a little while will make your life or Maggie’s life even slightly easier then —’

Grappling, Eddie threw his arms around Richie and buried his chin into the crook of Richie’s neck. ‘Rich, I don’t know what to say.’ 

‘If you’d rather I fucked off, then I can,’ Richie backtracked hurriedly. ‘I guess I’m not the best role model for an eight year old.’ 

‘No fucking way,’ Eddie said eagerly. ‘I mean, I could really use a friend.’ 

Richie’s heart squeezed. He was grateful to be Eddie’s friend, he was; but his chest still tightened when Eddie said the word, because Richie wished so badly that he was more to Eddie than a friend. ‘Well, that’s me.’

‘Thank you,’ Eddie said quietly, closing his eyes. 

Needing to make a joke to diffuse his tension at being so temporarily open, and to distract himself from quite how whole he felt when he had Eddie’s arms around him, Richie said, ‘I would say ‘anytime’ but I’m guessing you’re only planning on getting divorced once.’ 

Laughing half-heartedly, Eddie agreed, ‘Ideally.’ Then he let Richie go. ‘Wow. Okay then. Do you want to start helping me look for an apartment tomorrow?’

‘Sure,’ Richie said, stretching his back until it clicked, feeling hollowed without Eddie’s hands pressed against it. ‘I’ve been checking the listings since we got here. Found some affordable places in Maggie’s school district we can look at.’

‘I’ve been checking too,’ Eddie assured. ‘Good. We should have some options.’ 

Richie’s heart skipped. We should have some options. We. _We._ Brutally, he then considered that Eddie might mean Eddie-and-Maggie, not Eddie-and-Richie, and his heart settled back into its usual rhythm. ‘Here’s hoping.’ 

Eddie made a small, satisfied noise as he smiled at Richie, soft, warm and beautiful.

As their eyes locked, Richie felt himself falling into him, and in a brief moment of insanity, he considered whether he could kiss him. Side by side on the bed, in the soft yellow glow of the lamplight and the city that never slept beyond the windows, faces close enough that Richie could make out the flecks of gold in Eddie’s almond eyes. His gaze dipped to Eddie’s lips.

Eddie’s smile faded. 

Rapidly, Richie blinked his way out of the reverie. ‘Shall we brush our teeth?’ 

Scooting off the bed without encouragement, Eddie murmured his agreement and went to the door. Richie followed him, stomach twisting. 

In the bathroom, Eddie stood in front of the sink. Richie leaned around him to prep his toothbrush, and he saw Eddie tense as he did so. 

As he brushed, he looked at them both in the mirror and chuckled, ‘Look at this shit. I can still see my whole head above yours.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Eddie burbled, his mouth full of froth, ‘because you’re freakishly tall. I am average height.’

‘Only short people say they’re average height.’ Richie teased.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie spat into the sink. ‘At least I don’t have to duck when I walk room to room.’ 

Settling into the repartee, Richie rebuffed, ‘At least I don’t need a footstool to reach the top shelf in my kitchen.’ 

‘I won’t need it as long as I have you,’ Eddie said as he turned around. 

Richie looked down at him, stood now too squarely in his personal space, feet slotted between his own. His brain looped Eddie’s last sentence around and overworked itself, until he was left stationary with the toothbrush hanging limply between his teeth.

‘Can you move?’ Eddie chuckled, pushing lightly against Richie’s chest until he stepped backwards. He started to leave. 

Hurried, Richie rinsed his mouth out. ‘Eddie?’ 

‘Hmm?’ Eddie said, whirling on his heels, scratching the side of his neck. 

‘Do you have floss? I’m all out.’ 

Eddie’s knees buckled. ‘You floss?’ he spluttered. 

‘Yeah,’ Richie said, elongating the vowel sound. ‘Why is that so surprising?’

‘Your track record and personality.’

Shrugging, Richie said, ‘Well, my dad was a dentist.’

Blinking at him, remembering Wentworth Tozier, Eddie pointed at the wall cabinet. ‘Second shelf.’ 

Richie fetched it and drew a line, then held it out to Eddie. ‘Want some?’ 

Eddie took it, his fingers grazing against Richie’s. ‘Thanks.’ 

After flossing, they returned to the bedroom, sliding underneath the duvet and clicking out the lights. 

‘I’ll try not to snore,’ Richie whispered into the darkness. 

‘I’ll try not to hog the covers.’ Eddie whispered back. ‘Goodnight, Rich.’

‘Night, Eds.’

—

When Eddie woke, he was in the middle of the bed, bundled up like a burrito in the duvet, alone. His face itched, and as his eyes flicked open, his hands brushed against a post-it note stuck to his head. 

He yanked it off and looked at the crude stick figure drawing which depicted Eddie with several extra arms and legs occupying the entire bed, and a gangly long Richie clinging to the edge of the mattress. There was an arrow drawn to Eddie and the label: Spaghetti Monster. 

Eddie smirked even as he scoffed at it disapprovingly, and heaved himself up. 

‘Morning, Eds,’ Richie greeted as Eddie came into the kitchen. ‘Have you seen Maggie anywhere?’ 

Maggie squealed from her position, hanging upside down against Richie’s back as he gripped her ankles over his shoulders. She laughed as he span around on the spot.

‘I swear she was right here a moment ago,’ Richie jested. 

Eddie smiled and went behind Richie, heaving his hands underneath Maggie’s arms so that he could haul her up. ‘Found her,’ he said, juggling her into his arms and kissing her forehead. 

‘Morning, daddy,’ she greeted. ‘Richie made me pancakes.’ 

‘He did?’ Eddie gasped, placing her back down on the floor. ‘Did you say thank you?’

Maggie nodded. ‘Mommy said she was too tired to make breakfast. I don’t think she’s feeling well.’

‘Oh,’ Eddie pouted, and shot a concerned glance at Richie, but Richie only handed him a steaming mug of coffee. 

Wrapping her arms around Eddie’s thigh, Maggie said, ‘So Richie and I made her breakfast in bed to help her feel better.’ 

Swallowing, Eddie said, ‘That was a nice idea, darling.’ 

‘It was Richie’s idea,’ Maggie said, ‘but I helped a lot, didn’t I, Richie?’ 

‘You did,’ Richie acknowledged. ‘You were a big help.’ 

Maggie beamed, ‘Richie says I’m his shoe-cef.’ 

Snickering, Richie bent down and pressed his index finger to her nose. ‘Sous-chef,’ he corrected, in a gaudy French accent. 

Eddie stared at him, touched that of all things Richie could have done after Eddie had told Myra he wanted a divorce, such as ignore her forever, make jokes about her, talk badly about her behind her back, he had made her breakfast in bed. He wondered desperately whether they had exchanged any words when Richie had delivered the food. 

‘Daddy, I’m going to brush my teeth,’ Maggie announced, and tottered off. 

‘Pancakes?’ Richie suggested, turning back to the stove and pouring in the mix without waiting for Eddie’s confirmation.

Eddie sipped at his coffee. ‘Since when are you a cook?’ 

Richie grimaced over his shoulder, ‘I’m not, really. I only know how to make about five things well. Pancakes, burgers, grilled cheese, mac and cheese,’ he flipped the pancake onto a plate, ‘and spaghetti bolognese.’ He turned and handed the plate to Eddie. 

‘That’s a diet that will kill you eventually,’ Eddie commented, drizzling maple syrup. 

Prepping a second pancake, Richie said, ‘Yeah, maybe you can teach me how to incorporate at least one vegetable.’ 

‘Five a day, Richie,’ Eddie scolded, then softened. ‘Thanks for helping out this morning.’ 

Sliding the pancake off his spatula onto Eddie’s plate, Richie said pointedly, ‘Anytime.’


	4. Lost in the Post

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie found an apartment and asked Richie to move in with him, but Richie said no.

‘Eddie, I should pay you rent while I stay here,’ Richie insisted, toying with a metal bracket as he pretended to help Eddie with assembling his new furniture. 

‘I won’t illegally sublet,’ Eddie said dryly, working tirelessly with an Allan key. ‘I offered to temporarily put you on the lease.’ 

‘I know you did,’ Richie flattened his lips, hearing the same bitterness in Eddie’s voice which had been there since Richie refused Eddie’s offhand offer. 

He’d so badly wanted to put his name down beside Eddie’s, had been so overjoyed and flattered that Eddie had even asked Richie to co-sign the papers with him, and it would have meant that Richie would officially, legally, be flatmates with Eddie Kaspbrak. Yet, as Richie had held the pen, he’d thought about Maggie. 

Myra hadn’t taken news of the divorce well, to say the least. While Eddie’s shrewd prenuptial agreement ironed out monetary and property matters neatly and unwaveringly, there could be no child support or custody arrangements made in the event of divorce. Myra was furious enough that Richie feared she might try and take the only thing from Eddie that she theoretically could: his daughter.

It might not look good to a court if Eddie had suspiciously disappeared for two weeks, returned with a man whom his wife and child had never met, proposed divorce from said wife, and then immediately moved in with the stranger whom he expected his daughter to cohabit with, especially when that stranger was just a friend and, much to Richie’s biting chagrin, not a romantic partner. 

Not only that, but Richie’s reputation would unfortunately precede him. A quick browser search would pull up pictures and articles stacked with substantiated facts and unsubstantiated rumours of which Richie wasn’t entirely proud. It didn’t present appropriate roommate material, let alone boyfriend material, and definitely not parenting material. 

Granted, he’d not touched a drug, been out partying or slept with anyone since before his departure for Derry, and he’d not had a drink since the night at Jade of the Orient, but that didn’t stop the tabloids from continuing to churn out their malicious suspicions regarding Richie’s current whereabouts; his emotional, mental and physical states; or his reasons for both ruining his last show and suddenly cancelling the remainder of his tour. 

‘You know why I said I can’t,’ Richie sighed. 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Eddie dismissed, rifling in his toolbox. ‘Stupid contractual agreement with your place in LA. Legal domicile bullshit.’

Richie hadn’t told Eddie the truth for three key reasons. First and foremost, he didn’t want to worry him. Eddie had explained the situation to his daughter but he panicked frequently about how she was absorbing the news. Richie had no intentions of mentioning that Myra might engage in a custody battle before absolutely necessary. 

Secondly, he didn’t want to force himself or Eddie to over-analyse and discuss their current relationship, the indefinite longevity of his stay in New York City, or the implications of a potentially permanent moving away from Los Angeles. He wanted to provide the support and friendship that he knew he could, not burden Eddie with complicated questions, insinuations and ulterior motives, however pure. 

Finally, crucially, Richie really didn’t want to have Eddie agree with him and his fears. He couldn’t bear to watch Eddie realise that Richie was right, that he was a poor excuse for a role model, that he was an embarrassment and, ironically, a joke. He didn’t want to see Eddie’s inevitable disappointment once the nostalgia had worn away and he saw Richie Tozier for who he had become, not the boy that he used to be. He didn’t want to lose him before he had to. Whenever Richie thought too hard about that last reason, he felt guilty. 

‘At least let me do something,’ Richie tried, spinning a wrench around his finger. ‘I’ll pay the utilities.’

Tightening the last screw, Eddie said, ‘Utilities are included in the rent.’

‘Groceries, then,’ Richie tried, exasperated. ‘Clothes. Fucking Netflix subscription.’

‘It’s fine, Rich,’ Eddie grunted. ‘You paid for half the furniture and I think that makes us square.’

Satisfactorily having built the bookshelf, Eddie dusted his hands on his jeans and wiped his brow. He admired his handiwork so that he didn’t have to look at Richie. 

Richie couldn’t help but look at Eddie. Seeing him so capable with the toolbox reminded him of watching Eddie tinker around with cars when they were kids. He’d always been handy. It made his stomach jolt. 

He distracted himself by continuing their debate. ‘It’s going to stop you from looking for a new job and I don’t want to freeload off you. I’m supposed to be here to help not hold you back.’ 

‘Then fucking help me by building that flat-pack table instead of twiddling your thumbs,’ Eddie snapped, leaning over and yanking the spanner from Richie’s hand. 

‘Why are you so angry with me?’ Richie rubbed his temples. ‘I’m offering you money that I should be paying anyway. That I _would_ be paying anyway if I’d signed the lease.’ 

Eddie groaned, ‘Forget about the money, Richie. It’s not important.’

Face hot, Richie asked, ‘Then what’s wrong?’

‘Everything’s wrong!’ Eddie cried explosively, throwing his hands up in the air and starting to pace towards Richie. ‘I’m getting divorced. I’m going to be single for the first time since I was twenty-three. I’m breaking my daughter’s heart and tearing her family apart. I have so little family as it is and I can’t fucking believe I’ve wrecked this one.’

Heart splintering, Richie shook his head, ‘You haven’t wrecked anything. You married the wrong person.’

‘Yeah, I did,’ Eddie nodded ferociously. ‘Save for the fact that she’s Maggie’s mom, I’ve wasted my best years with her. And I’ve wasted the best years of my career too; working the wrong fucking job and I have no idea what I want to do with my life now or how I’m going to provide for my daughter.’

Encouraging, Richie reached for Eddie’s shoulders, trying to root him to the spot and steady him as he said, ‘You’ll figure it out. Between us we have enough money that you can afford to take the time to figure it out. It may not have been a fun career but it was a solid career, Eds, and it’ll put you in good stead to start a new one.’ 

Escaping Richie’s grip, Eddie pushed past him and went to his backpack, propped up on the wall beside the door. He picked it up and opened the zipper on the front pocket. Orange pill bottles, capsules and packets, lozenges and nasal sprays, eye drops and ear drops, toppled from its interior. 

‘Look at this shit,’ Eddie spat, surveying the floor. ‘How is this the second time in my life that the woman I live with has lied to me endlessly and convinced me that I am sick? What kind of fucking person gets manipulated like that? By someone who says that they love you. The only people who’ve ever said that they love me, other than Maggie.’

Desperately, Richie wanted to tell Eddie that he loved him. It burned in his throat, on the back of his tongue. ‘You forgot,’ he said weakly instead. ‘It’s not your fault you forgot.’ 

‘Oh, that’s right,’ Eddie laughed sarcastically. ‘And how did I remember? By going back into a fucking PTSD-inducing hellscape with a demon alien clown and all his hallucinatory minions which nearly fucking killed me. And you. And all the other Losers.’

Unable to stand it, Richie went over and threw his arms around him. Beaten, Eddie let Richie hold him. Anger gave way to pain, and he was glad that Richie couldn’t see him start to cry. Still, Richie could hear it, and he vowed that he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make sure that he never had to hear Eddie’s aching sadness so viscerally ever again. 

Eddie sniffled, ‘There is so much of my life and myself that I’d forgotten and that I’m having to come to terms with all over again and I hate having to see you go through all that shit too.’

Muffled, his chin balanced on Eddie’s head, Richie assured, ‘I want to be here.’

‘But one day, you’ll go,’ Eddie eked out with difficulty, and shrugged himself out of Richie’s grip once more. He rambled pitifully, ‘You’ll go back to your house in LA and your job in LA and your legal domicile bullshit in LA and live your life. Maybe we’ll see each other and maybe we won’t. Maybe you’ll forget me and I’ll forget you like we did when we were kids.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Richie said, his voice sombre and gravelly. The idea was so unrelentingly nasty. 

Eddie broke, a hand raising to squeeze at his stinging eyes and protect what dignity he feared he was about to jeopardise. ‘And I’m sorry for acting like I’m angry with you. I’m really fucking sorry, because I’m not angry with you. I’m just being fucking unreasonable and selfish because there’s no solution that works for both of us and because, despite all the shit we’ve been through with It, some things still scare me.’ 

‘Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?’ Richie spluttered. 

‘I know it was crazy of me to ask if you wanted to sign that lease,’ Eddie admitted, letting his hand fall from his face and locking Richie’s gaze. ‘I know. I know you’ve said that you’ll be here as long as I need you, but you will go some time. You could pick up and go at any time.’ He exhaled raggedly and admitted, ‘That terrifies me.’ 

Lungs collapsing, Richie managed to ask, ‘Why?’ 

Eddie stuck his tongue between his back teeth and bit, as though physically trying to stop himself from saying any more, or as though punishing himself for getting into such a vulnerable and desperate position, cornered by Richie’s question. 

Stepping closer to him, Richie pressed, ‘Why?’ 

Eddie’s eyes flicked away. Voice low, he croaked, ‘I don’t want you to disappear again. I feel like everything would disappear with you and I’d fall right back to where I was.’

Carefully, Richie forced his hands into his pockets so that Eddie wouldn’t see them tremble. ‘I don’t want to disappear either. But even if I did go, I don’t think I would disappear. We’re not forgetting this time. I call Mike every other day. Stan and I have been texting. Beverly and Ben have sent me photos of their trip. Bill sends me new novel pages to read through.’

‘Yeah,’ Eddie huffed, stepping away, towards the wall. 

Richie went on, ‘And you better believe that if I was in LA, I would be bombarding you. You’d be so sick of it. You’d get bored of me very quickly.’

Eddie twisted his lips. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘I didn’t sign the lease because if I did, you’d never get rid of me.’ His tone was thickly laced with insincerity, but Richie meant every word, and he hoped some part of Eddie knew that. ‘I would never leave and you’d be stuck with me forever and that’s a lot of Richie Tozier to commit to. I figured you’d want me to fuck off at some point.’ 

Leaning up against the wall, Eddie folded his arms defensively. ‘What if I didn’t?’

‘Then I won’t,’ Richie confessed, a crack in his voice. He recovered, ‘This isn’t a hard quiz. You could do better.’ 

Testing, Eddie narrowed his eyes. ‘Then why don’t you want to sign the lease?’ 

‘I do want to,’ Richie said through gritted teeth.

‘But see, Richie, I don’t think that you do,’ Eddie said softly. ‘And that’s fine. I just want you to tell me the truth and I’m trying to figure out why you won’t. You’re a good liar, but not that good.’

‘I’m not leaving New York, Eds,’ Richie circumnavigated.

Eddie didn’t say anything. He just waited. 

‘Fine,’ Richie muttered. ‘Fine, you win. You want the truth?’ 

‘Yes,’ Eddie sighed, seeming relieved that he wasn’t being paranoid. ‘Please.’

Richie chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘We can’t live together.’ 

The tendons in Eddie’s neck tightened, eyes flickering. 

‘I meant it when I said that I’m here as long as you want,’ Richie sighed. ‘I’m already renting out my place in LA. My stuff’s in some storage locker. Told the agency that I’ve taken a hiatus to write a new show and that I want to debut in New York. Had a meeting with my agent Joanna here on Monday all about it.’ 

Eddie was confused. ‘So, you just don’t want to live with me? Fuck. I know I’m neurotic but I thought it’d been kind of fun living together this past couple weeks, divorce aside.’ 

‘It has been fun,’ Richie said, unable to stop himself from smiling. Even though this conversation hurt, it was nice to know that Eddie had enjoyed having Richie around as much as Richie had enjoyed being there. ‘But it’s not about you. Neurotic as you are, I would love to live with you. Never lied about that.’ 

‘You don’t want to live with Maggie,’ Eddie said slowly, eyes widening. ‘Christ. Of course you fucking don’t.’

Heartbeat quickening, Richie tried to interject, ‘Eds -’

‘Fuck, Richie,’ Eddie smacked his head into his hands. ‘I’m so sorry. I feel like such an asshole.’ 

‘Eddie -’

‘I’m a fucking idiot,’ Eddie cursed, rolling his eyes. 

Richie stood squarely in front of him. ‘Edward fucking Kaspbrak, would you let me speak?’ 

Eddie looked up at him, sheepish. ‘Sorry.’

‘Eddie, it’s not that I don’t want to live with Maggie. She’s a great kid. Surprised me as much as anyone, but I really don’t mind her being around. She’s hysterical. And I think I’m actually pretty good with her.’

‘You are,’ Eddie said gently, almost proudly.

Richie spoke quickly, forcing the words out. ‘But I am a custody battle-axe that is just waiting to be wielded and I absolutely refuse to put myself in a position where you and Maggie are at risk of losing each other just because I put my own fucking happiness first.’ 

‘What?’ Eddie scoffed, but his eyes flashed enough that Richie felt he could see the wheels turning in his brain. 

‘I’m cleaning up,’ Richie vowed. ‘I am. But I’ve got twenty-seven years of mess to deal with.’ 

Eddie sighed and kicked his foot to graze Richie’s shin. ‘You know, I’m kinda the expert when it comes to cleaning.’ 

Richie smiled, ‘No shit.’ 

‘You can ask for help, Rich,’ Eddie said tentatively. 

‘But you need my help,’ Richie rebuffed. 

‘Yeah,’ Eddie nodded, ‘but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you too. We can help each other. We should. I want to.’

Gaze dropping downwards, Richie joked, ‘Then can you help me with this fucking flat-pack table? I have no idea what I’m doing.’

Smirking, Eddie asked, ‘Did you even _try_ reading the instructions?’ 

‘There’s nothing to read!’ Richie complained. ‘It’s all diagrams.’ 

Eddie laughed and slapped Richie’s shoulder as he walked to the pile of wood on the floor. ‘Come on. I’ll show you.’ 

Richie followed him but didn’t sit down right away. 

‘You okay?’ 

‘Can I still stay here?’ Richie asked meekly. ‘Even if I don’t sign the lease.’

Eddie tugged at the leg of Richie’s jeans to encourage him to sit down. ‘Yeah.’

Richie picked up the metal bracket again. ‘Shall I get the groceries?’ 

‘We’ll figure it out,’ Eddie assured, taking it off him.

‘Maybe I should just buy you a new car,’ Richie snorted. 

Rolling his eyes, Eddie cussed, ‘Fuck. I forgot about my fucking car. It’s completely totalled.’ 

‘You really have had a rough month,’ Richie jostled him, then reached for the booklet of instructions, furrowing his brow quizzically. 

Eddie looked at him and smiled. ‘It’s not all bad.’ 


	5. I Don't Know Why I Like You But I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie buys Eddie a car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay I have not had a laptop but now I do and I can type and write and it's all good

'Rich, I can't accept this,' Eddie insisted for the umpteenth time as he stared at the vehicle in the parking lot.

'Yes, you can,' Richie said, grinning from the other side of the hood. 'Come on, you know you've always wanted one.'

'I know, but –'

'And I did say that I'd get you a car as payback for the room in the flat.'

Eddie spluttered, 'I thought you were kidding!'

'It's not like it's brand new,' Richie rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, because it's _vintage_ ,' Eddie enunciated with awe. 'It's better than new.'

Richie grinned, 'There you go, then. A vintage car from your vintage friend.'

Laughing as he crossed over to where Richie stood, Eddie said, 'Are you saying you're better than all the new friends I've made over the years?'

'Yeah, obviously,' Richie snorted. 'I'm famous, hilarious and bought you a car.'

'Good point,' Eddie admitted. 'And you stopped me from dying at the hands a demon alien clown.'

'I think you've saved my life more than I've saved yours.'

Richie didn't just mean when Eddie had thrown the spear into the Deadlights. He meant every time when Eddie had been the thing which kept him going, every time he had tried to be better for Eddie's sake, especially recently.

Moving to New York, moving in with Eddie, cleaning up from the drugs and the alcohol and the partying; Richie was sure that Eddie Kaspbrak was the best reason to look after himself, a real reason to live.

'We don't have to keep score,' Eddie said quietly, resting his palm on the varnished paintwork. 'Besides, I think I'll owe you forever for this anyway.'

Cocking an eyebrow, Richie asked, 'Does that mean you're keeping it?'

Groaning, Eddie fought a smile and failed. 'Yes, fine. I'll keep it, but I want you to understand that this is _too much_ and you didn't need to do this.'

'You're welcome,' Richie beamed smugly, dangling the keys from his index finger. 'Shall we go for a drive?'

'How about a very glamorous trip to pick up Maggie from her swimming lesson?' Eddie suggested, snatching the keyring.

'Perfect,' Richie agreed, sidling past Eddie to scoot around to the passenger door. They slid into their seats and hummed as the leather cushioned their backs.

Eddie gasped, 'Fuck, it's got walnut panelling.'

'Is that good?' Richie asked, scanning the dashboard, and Eddie only laughed at him as he twisted the key in the ignition.

The engine purred and Eddie smiled. He leaned his elbow on the head rest as he reserved out of the space, and Richie tried not to stare at how his shirt tautened around his arms.

Out on the road, Eddie revved and shifted into third gear. He sighed happily as he listened to the machine around him. 'Okay, yeah. You're the best friend I've ever had. Hands down.'

'Alright, keep it in your pants,' Richie laughed, and wished he was joking.

He didn't know how to drive himself, having never needed to or seen much of the appeal, but watching Eddie drive was fascinating to him. Not because Eddie was doing anything differently to any other driver, but because Richie felt catapulted back to their youth, when he and Eddie used to borrow Bill's car and drive to the outskirts of Derry just to get away from it all for an evening.

Richie had been the same then, watching Eddie's grip tighten and loosen on the steering wheel, his effortless use of the stick shift, the alert concentration in his gaze contrasted against the serenity of his expression. So many times he'd wished that Eddie would lean over and lock his fingers with Richie's, like couples in old movies. He never did.

'We'll have to get it out of the city,' Eddie gushed as they parked up. 'Need to see her on the open roads.'

'You know I love a road trip,' Richie reminded, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace as he pictured himself and Eddie on a long stretch of the highway to nowhere.

Eddie smiled. 'We always said we wanted drive down the east coast.'

'We could go and see Mike in Florida,' Richie suggested, and was delighted to watch Eddie's smile broaden.

'I'd love that.' 

Being at the swimming pool reminded Richie of when the Losers used to go to the quarry to swim, leaping from the top of the cliff face and crashing into the water below. They'd stay there for hours, bathing in the light of the sun, playing and diving in the water.

Especially after Eddie realised that he didn't have asthma, they'd spent even more time down there. Eddie always felt his best when he was running or swimming, feeling the air burning in his lungs.

It was down at the quarry where Richie had first realised his feelings for Eddie. They'd been rough-housing as usual, and Richie's glasses had slipped from his face and down into the silty water. As he'd dipped his head below the surface and opened his eyes to search, the world was blurred in front of him.

As he reached for the arm of his spectacles, his hand brushed against Eddie's arm, eagerly sweeping down either to assist or swipe the precious lenses. He'd stared at Eddie's hazy outlines, hovering in the water, something mysterious and ethereal. And just like that, his friendship with Eddie had blurred too.

He didn't know why he knew then, but when he rose up and gulped in a breath of air, everything in his atmosphere seemed different, and the world was a place where he loved Eddie Kaspbrak.

'Where is she?' Richie asked, scanning over the sea of splashing and flailing limbs in the water.

'Over there,' Eddie pointed, drawn by that strange instinct all parents seem to have for finding their own children in a crowd. 'She'll be done in five minutes and then she'll need to shower and change. We might as well get a coffee while we wait.'

'I'll get it,' Richie offered, turning towards the café.

Eddie pressed his fingertips to Richie's chest and held him back. 'Oh no, you won't. It's on me.'

Richie grinned and mimed tipping his hat. 'As you wish, Eddie-my-love,' he said in a gaudy accent. Eddie only shook his head as he strode over to the counter.

There was a muffled squeal and Richie whipped around. His space was invaded suddenly with a square, beaming face. 'Whoa,' he said instinctively.

'Are you Richie Tozier?' the woman asked hurriedly.

'Uh, yeah,' Richie smiled weakly. He'd not been recognised all that much in New York, which made a refreshing change to his life in LA.

The woman squealed again, louder this time. 'My god! I thought it was you, but then I just kept asking myself, 'Why on earth would Richie Tozier be at my kid's swimming pool?' But here you are!'

Richie coughed awkwardly, 'Yeah. Here I am.'

'My ex-husband got me into you,' she explained, waving her hand. 'We caught your show here two summers ago. I just think you're hilarious. Are you touring again?'

'Uh, no, just,' Richie shuffled, unable to finish. Instead he said, 'Friend of mine lives here.' Feeling like he needed to explain his presence at the pool, he pointed to Maggie climbing out of the water and wrapping in a green towel. 'That's his kid. We're just picking her up.' 

The woman blinked rapidly, 'You know the Kaspbraks?'

At that moment, Eddie reappeared with two Styrofoam coffee cups. 'Hi, Vanessa,' he greeted.

'Edward Kaspbrak,' Vanessa snapped. 'How on _earth_ did you never mention that you're friends with Richie Tozier?'

'I'm a huge embarrassment to his clean-cut image,' Richie joked, slinging one arm over Eddie's shoulders and reaching for his coffee with the other.

Lying about the forgotten time was easier now, so Eddie added, 'And I wouldn't want you to only be friends with me because of my connections, Ness.'

She scowled, 'Oh, you _know_ he's my favourite, you bastard. When did you meet?'

'I've been putting up with his jokes since I was my daughter's age,' Eddie said through gritted teeth.

Vanessa chuckled, 'Well, you're clearly not sick of them yet. Small world, eh?'

Smiling softly, Eddie looked up at Richie and briefly caught his eye. Richie felt it shiver through him. 'Small world,' he agreed.

'So,' Vanessa began, dragging the vowel sound, 'how're things with Myra?' 

Instantly, Eddie's smile dropped. He took a sip of his coffee, then winced when it was still too hot. 'We're getting divorced.'

Vanessa gasped, 'Oh my God! Oh, Eddie, I'm so sorry.'

'Oh, don't pull that shit,' Eddie scoffed. 'You always hated her.'

Hiding his smirk behind the lip of his coffee cup, Richie decided that he liked Vanessa.

'I did not _hate_ her,' Vanessa stressed, then turned to Richie. 'I just never thought she was right for him. So, is that why you're all the way over here in New York, Richie? Helping out?'

Richie drained his drink. 'Something like that. Not sure how much help I am.'

Snapping her head back to Eddie, Vanessa spluttered, 'Wait, where are you staying? Are you in some hotel? If you need a place to crash –'

Eddie waved her off, 'Oh, no, no. Thanks, but we've got a place.'

'We?' Vanessa clocked, then pointed between the men. 'You two? Together?'

'Yeah,' Eddie said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Flushing, Richie added, 'Well, and Mags.'

'Ugh, stop calling her that,' Eddie complained.

'Sorry, Eds,' Richie said, relaxing again.

Vanessa's eyes narrowed momentarily, scanning between them, then she suggested, 'Well, in that case, I insist that we have dinner sometime. My ex will be absolutely livid when he finds out that we're friends.'

'Oh, we're friends now, are we?' Richie laughed.

'Sorry, you don't have a choice,' Vanessa shrugged.

At that point, Maggie and another small child, roughly the same age, appeared from the awning of the changing rooms. Gleefully, Maggie pelted across the room hollering, 'Daddy! Richie!'

Quickly, Richie found himself with Maggie clinging to his back, legs hooked at his waist, arms clasped tightly over his shoulders. 'Did you have a good lesson?' he asked, watching as Vanessa greeted the other child.

'I'm going to get my long-distance badge soon!' Maggie exclaimed proudly.

'Me too!' Maggie's friend cried. 'I'm going to get mine first.'

Maggie stuck out her tongue. 'You wish.'

Eddie hauled Maggie's swimming bag into his arms. 'Alright, Ness. See you next week if not before.'

'Nice to meet you,' Richie said genuinely.

Vanessa gave him a strangely serene, endeared look. 'You too, Richie.'

\--

'And Princess Lily knew that as long as she had a friend like Lucky Steven,' Richie read, 'then she would never be alone.'

Looking over at Maggie sleeping, Richie smiled and quietly closed the book that she'd asked him to read: Princess Lily and the Good Witch's Farewell. It was a sad retelling of Bev's departure from Derry town, when Richie had managed to smuggle Eddie out of his house to bring him to a sleepover with the other Losers, so they could all mourn together.

Nowadays, Richie read to Maggie almost as much as Eddie did. He'd worried at first that Eddie would feel like Richie was stealing such precious quality time from him, but Eddie promised that having Richie read to her was not only useful for him to escape children's books in favour of something more challenging for an evening, but that he liked how Maggie was becoming so fond of Richie as a result of it.

Richie closed the door to Maggie's bedroom with a soft click, then wandered into the living space. 'She's asleep.'

'That was quick,' Eddie commented. 'Did you read the whole next chapter of Greenfinch?'

Greenfinch was the book which Eddie had started with Maggie. Recently, Richie and he had been alternating chapter on chapter.

'Uh, no. She asked for something else,' Richie said, easing himself down into the seat beside Eddie on the sofa.

Eddie's brow furrowed. 'What did you read?'

Kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, Richie said, 'One of the Princess Lily books.'

Eyes widening, Eddie stumbled, 'What? She let you read her a Princess Lily?'

Richie smiled gently. 'Yeah. The Good Witch's Farewell tonight.'

'I can't believe that. She never even let Myra read them.' He squirmed, the asked shyly, 'Do you think they're any good?'

'Better endings than Denbrough's,' Richie jested. 'But then I guess the endings were sort of written for you.'

Confused, Eddie leaned into Richie's periphery. 'What do you mean?'

Richie laughed, 'Well, they're all our stories.'

'What?'

'Oh,' Richie jabbed his finger into Eddie's side, 'but seriously fuck you for the Bucky Beaver reference. Cannot believe that wormed its way into my character.'

Batting Richie's hand away, Eddie said, 'The fuck are you talking about?'

'Lucky Steven. Bucky Beaver,' Richie cocked his head smugly. 'He's me.'

Thinking hard, Eddie jabbered, 'Maybe he looks a bit like you, but he's not –'

'Eddie, it's alright,' Richie cut him off. 'It's pretty cool how much you remembered, in your own weird way.'

Unsteady, Eddie asked, 'Richie, are you telling me that the Princess –'

'Is you,' Richie finished. 'Yeah. I'm the knight, Bill's the prince, Ben's the carpenter…'

'And all the stories,' Eddie garbled, 'actually happened?'

Wrinkling his nose, Richie said, 'Sort of, except you've put a medieval fantasy twist on everything. Think my favourite one so far was Princess Lily and the Wise Man's Yuletide. You know, when it was Mike's first holiday season without his grandparents so we all went to spend it with him?'

Stunned, Eddie's mouth flapped open and closed like a fish; he made no sound. He finally managed to say, 'How many have you read?'

Richie hummed as he thought. 'Five, I think. Dragon's Lair, Wise Man's Yuletide, Good Witch's Farewell, Danny Boy's Tournament and Prince Sam's Chariot.'

'You need to stop,' Eddie blurted.

Pain wrenched in Richie's stomach with an unsatisfying jolt. 'What? Why?'

It took Eddie a moment to gather the words in the back of his throat. 'Because they're _my_ memories. They're my memories, Rich, and it's not fair that you have them if I don't.'

Richie pushed his glasses up his nose. Regrettably, he understood where Eddie was coming from, but he really wanted to read the rest of Eddie's stories, because they brought back memories for him too, the good and the bad, in a way that didn't hurt.

'You could read them,' Richie said brightly. 'If you read them, then maybe I could read them?' 

Lip twitching, Eddie twisted his body towards Richie. 'I don’t want you to.'

Disappointment and rejection flooded through Richie's body in a heavy wash, like thick treacle. 'Why not? I like reading them. I like knowing that some part of you never really forgot –' he stopped himself from saying _me_.

Eddie's shoulders hunched, uncomfortable. 'And now you know. You know some part of me didn't forget, okay?' He swiped his palm down his face. 'I can't explain.'

'Try,' Richie urged.

A flash of fear darted across Eddie's eyes, and it made Richie wince. He'd hoped that he'd never have to see fear in Eddie's eyes again, now that it was all over.

'Well,' Eddie stumbled, 'they're from my perspective. They're all from Lily's point of view. So it's not like reading an outsider's account. It's my thoughts and my feelings and so,' he grimaced awkwardly, 'it's not like you're reading my biography, it's like you're reading my diary.'

Richie pouted as he rocked his head back and considered this. There was some truth in it, he supposed. It made sense. Still, it was a blow. 'Fine. I won't read them anymore.'

'It's nothing against you, Rich,' Eddie promised, resting a hand on his shoulder, relaxing now that Richie had conceded. 'I wouldn't want anyone reading them if they knew it was really about us,' he choked, 'about me.'

With a defeated sigh, Richie sank further into the sofa cushion. 'I get it.'

'Yeah?' Eddie checked, trying to smile, and Richie reciprocated the expression. 'Want to watch a movie that isn't rated U?'

Richie nodded, 'Something gratuitously violent with strong language.'

'You mean like our _actual_ childhood, not my twee fairy-tale rendition?' Eddie joked, shuffling into a comfortable position.

'Eh,' Richie shrugged, trying not to focus too much on how close Eddie was now sat to him, arms and thighs brushing. His legs weren't quite long enough to kick his feet up on the table beside Richie's. 'I like your version.' He grinned and added, 'Princess.'

Eddie scowled, 'Oh no. You do _not_ get to call me Princess.'

'Lily Fusilli,' Richie teased, whispering into Eddie's ear.

'Oh, fucking hell!' Eddie realised. 'Eddie Spaghetti. Christ.' 

Richie looked at him with affectionate abandon, letting go for just long enough that the love swarmed his eyes and glowed in his cheeks. 'You should read them, Eds. I want you to remember,' he stopped himself again, but forced through his own fear, a crack in his voice, 'me. Like that. Before I became such a piece of shit.'

Eddie snapped his head around. 'You know I like you as you are, Rich. Right?'

If Richie had thought about kissing Eddie before, then it paled in comparison to how urgently and fervently he thought it when Eddie said that. 'Yeah?' he murmured.

Swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, Eddie said, 'Yeah.' His gaze flicked away, the eye contact all too intense. 'Besides,' he croaked, 'you were such a piece of shit when we were kids.'

The moment passed, as it always did. Richie chuckled, 'Yeah, I guess that's true.'


	6. Dip You In Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie's struggling to write any new material.  
> Eddie comes home with news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back ! Sorry that this chapter took so long to update but I'm already halfway through chapter 7 so that should be coming soon and lockdown is giving me so much more time to write ! Love you all and hope you're staying safe :)

Pen poised in his hand, Richie had been staring at the same blank piece of paper for the best part of an hour. Nothing was coming into his head. He'd told his agent that he was ready to start writing his own material again, but Richie felt like he couldn’t continue with the same charade, the same character that he'd been perpetuating for the best part of his career.

It felt like starting over, but Richie still wasn't ready to write about his true self, his true experiences and relationships. If he couldn't even tell the other Losers those things, then he couldn't tell the world. Half the time, he couldn't even tell himself without wincing. He didn't say these things out loud.

So, he had three options. He could regress to that familiar, trauma-induced Trashmouth persona which he had constructed as a child; he could give up on ever producing an original comedy special again; or he could come out to everyone.

He shuddered, groaned, and threw the pen down. Head in his hands, he didn't even flinch when Eddie barrelled through the front door, slamming it behind him.

'Rich, I have news,' Eddie announced dramatically, then he noticed Richie's position. 'Are you okay?'

Raising his head with a heavy inhale, Richie muttered, 'Writer's block. How you ever wrote a dozen princess stories is beyond me. I can't even write one fucking joke.'

Eddie came and sat beside him. 'Those books are just me and my memories. Don't most comedians do the same thing?'

'It's not like I can write about the clown,' Richie grumbled. 'For starters, I would sound like a psycho and that fucker is so far from funny.'

'Pennywise is not the only thing that has happened to you,' Eddie stressed. 'Look at my books. Only one is about It. The rest are just about you and me and the Losers. And you've had a whole twenty-odd years in LA where at least something funny must have happened to you.'

'You would think, wouldn't you?' Richie chuckled.

Eddie laughed, then suggested, 'Well, what about your life now? You're living with a neurotic, clean-freak, hypochondriac ex-risk analyst and his precocious daughter. That sounds like a sitcom. You have my full permission to strip me and mine for parts.'

'You want me to strip you?' Richie waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Flushing, Eddie screeched, 'Not what I meant!'

'You sure?' 

Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked, 'Well, at least you made a joke. So you must be feeling better.'

Richie slapped his hand against his head. 'For fuck's sake, I am such an asshole.'

'Did you only just realise that, or?' Eddie pursed his lips.

Richie grinned. 'You said you had news.'

'Oh, fuck!' Eddie remembered. 'Yeah.'

'Well?'

He shuffled to get comfortable, straightening his back. 'I got the job.'

Richie's eyes widened. 'You got the job?'

'I got the job!' Eddie repeated gleefully. 'So now at least one of us is employed.'

Eddie was expecting Richie to shove him for this remark, but Richie only embraced him, squeezing his arms around Eddie's shoulders.

'Congrats, Eds. Bet that's a fucking weight off your mind.'

'It's not just a weight off my mind,' he sighed, releasing Richie. 'I'm actually fucking excited. I'm going to be doing something fucking _different_. God, you have no idea how good it feels to know that.'

'I do,' Richie scoffed. 'That's how it felt when I came here.'

Eddie smiled and looked at the blank piece of paper which Richie had pored over. 'Clean slate.'

'Clean slate,' Richie agreed quietly, rubbing his knuckles. Not wanting to wallow, he smacked his hands together. 'We should celebrate tonight. Fancy dinner. Pull out all the stops. Blow your first pay check before you've even earned it.'

'Seems like tempting fate a little, don't you think?'

Richie rapped his hand on the wood of the table. 'Think we've had enough bad luck for a lifetime.'

'You'd hope,' Eddie exhaled. Carefully, he flicked his eyes at Richie. 'We have Mags tonight.'

'Did you just call her Mags?' Richie gasped, gripping Eddie's upper arm.

Eyes wide, Eddie spluttered, 'No. No, I did not.'

'You did! You called her Mags. Maybe you've been lying to me all these years and you love nicknames after all, Eds. Spaghetti. Spags. Spags and Mags!'

Eddie groaned hopelessly. 'What have I done?' he implored the ceiling.

'She can behave herself at a restaurant, can't she?' Richie shrugged. 'Why don't we just bring her along?'

'She's a bit of a fussy eater,' Eddie mumbled.

'Wonder where she gets that from,' Richie laughed.

Eddie's brow furrowed and a morose guilt swept across his face. 'Rich, since she got me the interview and all, I sort of called Vanessa after I found out that I got the job. She's invited me out to dinner with her. I was actually going to ask if you could look after Maggie tonight.'

'Oh,' Richie said, raising his eyebrows too high and pressing his lips together too tight. 'Right. Sure.'

'Yeah?' Eddie asked reticently, his stomach twisting, feeling awkward. 'I would ask you to come but –'

'It's fine, Eds,' Richie assured. 'You deserve it. You don't want the sober guy there anyway. I can look after Mags and you can have a good time and celebrate.'

Eddie grimaced. He didn't want Richie to feel like his babysitter. 'I can call and cancel.'

'If you do, I will total your car,' Richie warned, smirking. 'Go. Have fun and say hi to Vanessa for me.' He winked.

Blushing, Eddie stammered, 'It's not that kind of dinner.'

Richie cocked an eyebrow. 'I don't know, Eds. I've seen your soon-to-be-ex-wife. You like big matriarchal blondes and I can't say I blame you. After all, me and your mom had an extraordinary affair.'

'Richie, no.' Eddie stated flatly. 'Vanessa's my friend and now she's my colleague. That's all. It's not a date.'

His heart quivering, Richie asked nonchalantly, 'But do you want it to be?'

Eddie shook his head urgently. 'No! It's a business dinner.'

Now that he had started, Richie couldn't stop sadistically and masochistically teasing. He sighed, 'That's what they all say.'

'It's not even just me and Vanessa. Her boss is going to be there. Her assistant is going to be there. And,' Eddie strained, 'I'm pretty sure that her _wife_ is going to be there.'

'Her wife?' Richie repeated incredulously.

'Yeah,' Eddie confirmed, falsely shielding his nerves with overconfident bravado. 'So you can stop acting like mine.'

Richie burst into laughter. 'Zing! Okay, sorry for the third degree.' He rolled his eyes, but his heart was pounding, his mind racing. Compulsively needing to cover his tracks, he said, 'Maybe we should take Vanessa up on her offer to have us over for dinner.'

Scoffing, Eddie protested, 'It's not like they'd put on a show for you.'

'Oh, the humanity,' he wailed melodramatically. 'Woe is me.'

'Please don't make a comment when you next see her,' Eddie mumbled, his voice low.

Something honest in Richie twanged and the veneer dropped. 'What? You know I wouldn't do that, right?'

Eddie shuffled, 'I don't know. Vanessa's a big fan of your stand-up. You might've made a joke.'

Deeply uncomfortable, Richie half-swallowed his words. 'No. I'm only kidding around with you because you always know I'm kidding. At least, I thought you did.'

Surprised by Richie's sudden candour and level tone, Eddie eyed him curiously. 'I do. I guess,' he struggled. 'I don't know.'

'You don't know what?' Richie's mouth was arid as the desert.

Eddie opened his mouth as though to explain, but thought the better of it. 'It doesn't matter. Sorry, I didn't mean to –'

'Forget it,' Richie dismissed, smiling anxiously.

'I'm going to get changed,' Eddie announced awkwardly, sliding his palms down the front of his trousers then climbing to his feet.

As Eddie walked across the room, Richie watched him go. Before he disappeared, Richie jumped out of his seat and jogged over to him. 'Hey, Eds?'

'Yeah?' Eddie asked, eyes flicking from the ground up Richie's lanky frame until he met his eyes.

'Congrats again,' Richie said quickly, his cheeks colouring. 'On the job. And the fancy corporate dinner. And I'm sorry for the jokes. I'm really proud of you.'

Pleasantly stunned, Eddie raised his eyebrows and smiled at him. 'I'm sorry, I think I just hallucinated.'

'Fuck off,' Richie trilled his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets. 'I'm trying this new thing where I'm not a dick to you _all_ the time.'

'Just most of the time.'

Richie cocked his head, 'Well, I don't want you to get me confused with someone else.'

'I don't think that's possible,' Eddie laughed. 'Only one Trashmouth, that's for sure.'

'Thank God. I don't think the world could cope with more.'

'You do live here rent-free,' Eddie smirked, leaning against the door jamb. 'Think I'm owed the occasional compliment.'

Richie mimicked his expression, stepping closer. 'Exactly.'

'Thanks, Rich,' Eddie said softly, locking his eyes.

Not breaking his gaze, Richie spoke too slowly. 'I should probably get back to writing my show.'

'You mean not writing it,' Eddie corrected, grinning.

Pouting, Richie complained, 'Mean. After I was just so nice to you.'

Eddie chewed his lower lip. 'Well, I don't want you to get me confused with someone else either.'

'Only one Eddie Spaghetti,' Richie huffed nostalgically.

He groaned, 'Because only you are annoying enough to come up with such a dumb nickname.'

'You love it really.' Richie dared to tease. His pulse throbbed in his neck. He couldn't think of the last time he'd been this close to Eddie for such a prolonged period of time.

'Who says?'

'I know you do.'

Eddie was now so close to Richie that he had to crane his neck to properly look at him. Richie could see the gaps between each of his eyelashes. When Eddie swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

A nasal ringtone cut through the silence. Richie stepped backwards, whatever that was lingering cruelly severed. He cursed under his breath as Eddie answered the phone.

'Hi, Ness,' he said, too brightly, raking a hand through his hair. 'Yeah, yeah, no, I'll be ready by then. Okay, I'll meet you there. Bye.'

'I'll leave you to it,' Richie said. 'I know it takes you about ten hours to get ready.'

Eddie purposefully knocked Richie's arm as he pushed past him. 'Well, you could stand to take more than ten minutes.'

Gawping, Richie feigned hurt, 'What's that supposed to mean?'

Turning back around to face him, Eddie smiled. 'Nothing. Just kidding.'

As Eddie went into the bathroom, Richie's face contorted. He went to his own bedroom, closed the door and laid down on the bed. Safe in the knowledge that the sound of the shower head would drown him, he let himself cry.

He wasn't sad, particularly. He was just exhausted. Frustrated. Fit to burst with questions and secrets which begged to be released. Drained from carrying the weight of his heart around inside him for so long, even when he didn't know for whom it sat so heavy and full.

Living with Eddie was wonderful, but his unbending love and newfound jealousies were rearing their heads, and it was growing increasingly difficult to subdue. Especially when it seemed that, on the rare occasion that Richie did let himself toe the line between joking and outright flirting, Eddie always seemed ready at the net to volley back. 

It seemed dishonest now, in a way that it never had before. He was settling so easily and readily into this new life, a life with Eddie and with Maggie. Eddie and Richie and Maggie: it had a ring to it that Richie adored. He didn't want anyone else to be a part of it. He couldn't bear the thought of Eddie having someone else.

It wasn't a fair thing to think; Richie knew that. For starters, Eddie wasn't gay. Even if he was, he didn't know that Richie was gay. Even if he did, that didn't mean that he would like Richie like that. Even if he did, Richie _loved_ him, loved him excruciatingly, and it was too much love to ask of anyone in return.

There was a knock at his door. 'I'm heading out,' Eddie hollered. 'Maggie should be dropped over any minute.'

'Okay, see you later!' Richie called, not willing to see him when his eyes were puffed and bloodshot.

'Bye, Rich.'

\---

Maggie went to sleep easily, tired from a long day at school. Moping, Richie stared at the three feeble jokes he had scrawled onto the page, then scribbled them all out. He scratched so hard into the paper that he tore right through it, damaging the one below.

He ripped both sheets from the plastic rings, balled them in his fists and tossed them across the room. They smacked limply against the wall and rested on the carpet.

Reaching for his phone, he scrolled through the list of notifications. Mike's snaps of the Florida seascape. The latest chapter of Bill's new book. A couple of interesting news articles from Stan. A must-try recipe from Ben. Lastly, a missed text message from Beverly, simply reading: _Love you. Hope you're doing okay. Call me?_

Richie glanced at the clock. Midnight and still Eddie wasn't home. He sighed, then dialled her number. She picked up on the third ring. 'Bev?'

'Richie?' Her voice was hoarse, slurred as she stirred from sleep. Quickly, it picked up to its usual timbre as she worried. 'It's the middle of the night. Are you okay? Where's Eddie?'

'He's out. Work thing.' Richie scuffed his heel against the grain of the carpet.

'Oh. Maggie?'

Smiling serenely, Richie said, 'Asleep.' He instinctively angled his head towards her door, as though expecting her to appear at the mere mention of her name, even through a phone line.

'Okay.' Bev paused, then asked quietly, 'Are you craving? Do you want me to call your sponsor?'

'No. Fuck,' Richie reeled, rambling. 'No, no, I'm fine. I haven't had anything. I mean, thanks, but no.'

'Then what is it?' she asked, then her voice dipped in volume as she spoke to the man beside her, one Richie knew well but couldn't see or coherently understand. 'Ben, no. No, it's Richie. He's fine, I think. Go back to sleep. I'll be back in a minute, okay, honey?'

'Honey?' Richie asked as he listened to the rustle of Beverly's blankets.

She laughed. 'Fuck off, Trashmouth.'

Grinning at the sound, Richie gushed, 'I miss you.'

'I miss you too,' she said fondly.

'You should come to New York.'

Beverly sighed. 'What's going on, Rich?'

'Oh, right. Sorry.' Richie bit his lip and stared at the ceiling. It stared back at him. 'You want to go back to bed.'

'Ideally,' she said, dragging each syllable of the word, 'but not before you tell me what's wrong.'

'Nothing's wrong, exactly.' He wrinkled his brow, aware that he wasn't making much sense, but he needed more time to prepare himself and was relentlessly stalling.

'Okay? Care to elaborate on that?' she urged.

Frustrated, he placed a palm over his eyes, needing to shut off his other senses and hone in on her familiar voice. 'I want to, but –' he trailed off.

She chimed in, 'But? Come on, Rich.'

'This is hard, Bev!' he snapped.

There was a pause. Her voice calm and gentle, she asked, 'What is?'

Richie let his hand drop from his face as the first of the tears began to stream from his eyes. Quietly, quieter than just about anyone had ever heard him speak, he confessed, 'I'm gay.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look after yourselves cherubs! Take a leaf out of Eddie Kaspbrak's book and wash your hands :)  
> Find me on tumblr @peel-back or @intouchwithhumanity-ao3 if you're bored and wanna chat !


	7. Be Your Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie's been dodging Bev's calls, but she's persistent.  
> Maggie asks for another bedtime story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all safe in lockdown!

'Richie, your phone is ringing!' Eddie hollered from the kitchen.

'Who is it?' Richie hollered back.

'It's Bev.'

'Let it go to voicemail.' Richie dismissed. 'I'll call her later. I'm on a roll right now.'

Eddie wandered out into the hall clutching Richie's phone. When he saw Richie fire yet another paper aeroplane successfully into the trash can, he growled and answered it. 'Hey, Bev. No, no, it's Eddie. Christ, are you alright?'

There was a short pause as Eddie furrowed his brown anxiously and eyed Richie, who had frozen in place. Eddie went on, 'No, he's fine. He's right here if you want to talk to him.' Pointedly, he said, 'No, he's not busy.'

Richie scowled and reluctantly took the phone. 'Hey, you.' His gaze flicked sideways to Eddie towering over him, eyebrow raised disapprovingly.

'Honestly, Richie, I swear to God,' Beverly cried, exasperated. 'Another dodged call and I'd be on a plane to New York.'

'Not necessary,' he grumbled.

'Talk to me, Rich.'

'Not now.'

Beverly waited a moment, then she demanded. 'Ask me how the dog is if Eddie is still in earshot of this conversation.'

'How's the dog?' Richie asked.

'Is he really still in earshot or do you just not want to talk to me?' she whined.

'I said, 'how's the dog'?' Richie repeated, louder, then mouthed at Eddie to indicate that it was a bad line. To escape Eddie's prying stares, he feigned searching for reception and took himself into another room. Satisfied that he was alone, he dropped his voice. 'Okay, I'm alone now.'

'But you have been ignoring me,' Bev complained.

Richie groaned, 'I didn't want any more questions.'

'I know,' she said. 'I'm sorry. I was just surprised. And it was so late.'

'I know,' Richie huffed.

'I just want to know how you are,' Bev said quietly.

Humming, Richie said, 'That's a question pretending that it's not a question. But I'm fine. Really. I'm glad I've told you and now we can never ever speak about it again.'

'Richie, you need to find a way to speak about it,' she insisted. 'If not with me then with someone. You've been keeping this to yourself for God-knows-how-many years and you have to talk about it.'

'I don’t _have_ to do anything,' Richie said petulantly.

Beverly whimpered. 'It's okay, Rich. You do know that? I love you and nothing has changed because you haven't changed. I just know you a little better.'

'That was downright slick. Did you practice that?' He wasn't sure if he was joking.

'Richie, I'm sorry that I don't know all the right things to say,' Bev rambled, 'but I want to say them because they're what I mean. They're what any of us would mean.'

'You don't know that,' he mumbled.

Bev was firm. 'I do. I do know that. God, Rich. We've spent our whole lives being the kids who are different. Who have been through shit that the other kids haven't. Who love each other because we just do, because it just is that way and it always has been. If this changed how any of the Losers felt about you, that would be the craziest thing I have ever seen, and I have literally seen a demon clown transfigure into a gigantic demonic alien spider and the fucking _future_.'

As he stared out over New York City from his bedroom window, Richie was quiet. 'I can't tell him.'

'Eddie? He's your best friend, Rich. I'm sure he would –'

'I'm in love with him,' Richie said aloud for the first time in his life. 'Always have been. Still am.'

'Oh, Rich,' Bev's murmur crackled down the line.

'I can't tell him I'm gay. Even if that went well, which it wouldn’t, I can't tell him half the truth because it's not enough and once the half of it's out, he could figure out the rest. And he can't know the full truth because it's too much and I just don’t think I can hear those things. I don't want to see it on his face. It would kill me and I've only really just started living.'

Beverly sighed. 'Something in you wants to start being the real you, Rich. You told me. Some part of you is as ready as the rest of you is scared. I won't tell you what to do. I can't. But you are never as alone as you think you are. And maybe you're afraid that things will change for the worse, and while there's a lot I imagine you want to stay the same, maybe now is the time that things could change for the better _._ You're not a kid anymore.'

'I don’t want to lose him again. I just got him back.'

'Richie,' Beverly chided softly. 'You said it yourself. You _still_ love him. Even after all this time apart, he's been with you. That means you never lost him.'

\---

'Please, please, please?' Maggie begged.

'I said I can't, Mags,' Richie complained, tugging the duvet up over Maggie's torso. 'Your daddy wants to read them to you.'

She folded her arms and whined, 'But I like the way _you_ read them. I've heard daddy read them a million times.'

'They're your daddy's stories,' Richie said resolutely. 'It's only fair he gets to tell them to you.' 

Maggie glanced away from him, sulking. 'They're your stories too.'

Richie smacked his lips together. 'You're too smart for your own good. You know that?'

She grinned toothily. 'Is that a yes?'

'No,' Richie insisted.

'The next one's a _really_ good one,' Maggie tempted, swiping the book from her bedside table and waving it at Richie.

Richie tried not to look at it. 'They're all really good ones.'

She kicked her feet with irritation. 'Oh, you're no fun.'

'You take that back!' Richie gasped.

'I will if you read it.'

Shaking his head in disbelief, Richie sighed. 'Okay, I'll cut you a deal. I'm not going to read you this book because I promised your daddy that I wouldn't. However, as you said, these are my stories too. So, why don't I tell you one of my own?'

Maggie narrowed her eyes. 'What do you mean?'

'I don't know if it'll be as good as your daddy's books, but I can do my best. Tell you a brand new Princess Lily story.'

Her face glowed. 'So it will be Princess Lily? And Lucky Steven?'

'Maybe Prince Sam and the Good Witch and the rest,' Richie shrugged. 'Depends on the story I tell.'

'Okay!' she agreed gleefully, snuggling under the covers, her hair squishing into the pillow. 'Wait, what if it's already one of the other stories?'

Richie tapped his fingers on his knee. 'Okay. I promise this one won't be.' He didn't say how he knew; that Eddie didn't know this story, or at least, didn't know parts of it.

Discarding the other Princess Lily book onto the table, Maggie said, 'I'm ready.'

Exhaling deeply, Richie said, 'Have you heard the story of Princess Lily and the Knight's War?'

'War?' Maggie spluttered. 'That doesn't sound good.'

Knitting his brow, Richie said, 'The war wasn't. But Princess Lily was very, very good.'

'No spoiling!' she chided.

'Sorry,' Richie said, relaxing slightly.

He prepared himself to talk for what might be the first time about the way he was treated by the Bowers Gang for being the way they suspected him to be, the way he was.

He prepared himself to talk about how Eddie tended his wounds, comforted him, never asked questions and made him feel better when just about everything else seemed dark and hopeless.

'Once upon a time, Lucky Steven was out playing games in the kingdom's tavern with,' he stunted, 'a beautiful _girl_ that he had never met before. They were having a lot of fun, and when the game ended, Steven asked her if she wanted to stay to play a little longer, because he liked her. However, the beautiful girl only laughed and soon, out of the shadows came the Mullet Barbarian.' 

Maggie shrieked, 'Oh no! Not the Mullet Barbarian! He's the _worst_.'

Richie nodded, 'Yeah. He is the worst. And Lucky Steven knew that it was very bad news that he was in the tavern, and even worse news that the beautiful girl was the cousin of the Mullet Barbarian.'

'Uh oh,' Maggie whimpered.

'Uh oh,' Richie reciprocated.

As he continued, he realised that it was strangely therapeutic to talk about what had happened to him so long ago. He felt that the metaphor helped evade some of the nastier memories, veiled it in something fantastical.

Maggie's interjections helped too, knowing that, despite everything, he was the hero of her story. He was the hero, and everyone else was wrong for acting the way they did. Somewhere inside him, Richie knew that was supposed to be true, but he'd never really felt that way.

'Now, this was the time when Princess Lily had been locked away by the Wicked King because she'd hurt her arm fighting against the dragon,' Richie explained. 'But Lucky Steven really, really wanted to see her.'

Rolling her eyes and grinning, Maggie said, 'Lucky Steven _always_ wants to see the Princess.'

'And as we know from Princess Lily and the Dragon's Lair,' Richie breathed fondly, 'the Princess Lily was missing her friends too. She was all alone, locked up high in the tall tower.'

'She missed Lucky Steven the most though,' Maggie insisted. 'He's her favourite.'

Richie blushed, 'If you say so. Anyway, Lucky Steven waited until nightfall, when the kingdom was all asleep, and he sneaked out of the knights' lodgings. As quietly as he could, he mounted his horse and rode over to the castle.'

Maggie asked, 'What colour is his horse?'

Thinking about his bike, Richie settled for, 'It's black. Prince Sam's is silver.'

'A silver horse? I want one,' she said dreamily.

Richie went on, 'He knew how to sneak past the Wicked King's guards and get himself right beneath Princess Lily's window.'

'Oh, this is how he learns how to climb the trellis! He does that in some of the other stories.' Maggie nodded, satisfied. 'I always wondered.'

'Right,' Richie affirmed, wondering which occasions Eddie had inserted into his whimsical narrative. 'And when he finally reached her window, it was like she had been waiting for him. She reached down her one good arm and hauled him up the last few feet. Lucky Steven would have and could have done it himself, he knew, but something about the Princess's hand in his made him realise quite how much he really needed her.'

'He does need her. Even if she doesn't always think he does.' Maggie insisted, 'They need each other.'

'Yeah. They do.' Richie sighed. 'Anyway, the Princess, despite helping him up, had a big frown on her face and scolded Lucky Steven for being so reckless in climbing the trellis. She scolded him for putting them both in the path of wrath from the Wicked King. And then she scolded him for not coming to see her sooner.'

Maggie chuckled, 'That sounds like Lily.'

'And then she held Lucky Steven in her arms as though he might disappear any moment and was only an illusion, and Steven almost believed then that it had to be an illusion, because Lily had never held him like that before. And in her arms he felt the wounds in his heart heal over. But do you know what happens to wounds after they heal, Maggie?'

'They bruise?'

'No. They scar.'

Maggie pulled up the hemline of her pink pyjamas and thrust her ankle out of the blankets. 'I got this scar when I fell out of a tree in Central Park. Mummy went _ballistic_ but Daddy fixed it _._ ' 

Richie couldn't help but imagine Eddie's furrowed brow as he bent over a wounded Ben Hanscom with steely resolve. 'I bet. Your daddy's got a bit of a knack for fixing things.'

'Story,' Maddie prompted, growing tired.

'Sorry.' Richie rolled his eyes at her. 'Anyway, Lucky Steven knew that his heart was scarring, but he couldn't see it. He didn't know what it looked like. And he needed to know, like it was tearing out from inside him. So, the next day he marched himself down to the most enchanted place in the town that he could think of.'

'The bridge!' Maggie beamed happily, nestling into her pillow. 'What happened?'

'Lucky Steven knelt down and he put his palms to the slats of the bridge, and he asked for the answer. He asked for it to be known, even if it was dangerous, even if it was something that he couldn't properly face yet.'

'And did the answer appear?'

'It did. And it was the same thing that would be scarred into his heart forever.'

Maggie's eyes squeezed tight as she yawned. 'What was it?'

Richie thought about how to articulate it. 'It was the truth.'

'The truth?' She wrinkled her nose.

'It was the truth about Lucky Steven,' Richie affirmed.

'What truth?' she slurred, eyelids flickering.

Richie spoke slowly, his voice calm and low. 'It was the version of him without his knight's armour or his jester garbs, without the silly voices and the Wicked King and the Mullet Barbarian and the dragon and the whole rest of the kingdom. He saw who he was. He saw who he really should be. And he saw who, deep down, he always had been.'

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine. 'What did it look like?'

Richie knew there was only one answer. In the silence, before he could give some feeble approximation, or even an outright lie, Maggie slipped peacefully into dreaming.

'Goodnight, Maggie,' Richie huffed, heaving himself off the edge of the bed and wandering over to the bedroom door. He hovered at the light switch, staring at the blank space of the wall below and seeing the kissing bridge, seeing it as though he were thirteen years old and knelt before it again.

He reached out and pressed his fingertips to the paintwork. Idly, he traced, invisible.

R+E.

Then he turned out the light, and the room was swathed in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be back soon xx


	8. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night in with Richie, Eddie and Maggie.

Maggie slumped in her seat of the car with a happy sigh. 'I love this song!'

'Do you want me to turn it up?' Richie asked, hand poised over the stereo controls. 

She gasped, 'Daddy never lets me have it loud.'

Richie waggled his eyebrows at her in the rear view mirror and cranked up the volume as Maggie whooped. They crooned along together, Richie being painfully aware that he could hardly sing a note. Maggie's voice, on the other hand, was crystal clear and perfectly in tune.

'You're a good singer!' Richie yelled over the din.

Her face lit up. 'You think?'

As Richie nodded, the music was cruelly cut off by the phone ringing. Maggie booed as Richie answered. 'Hello?'

'Hey, Rich, it's me.' Eddie's voice. 'Pick up Maggie okay?'

'Hi, Daddy!' Maggie cried out.

'How are you, my love?' Eddie asked.

'Fine, dear,' Richie joked his reply.

'He means me,' Maggie insisted, giggling. 'I'm good, daddy. I got a gold star on my multiplications at school.'

'Well done! You worked so hard at them.'

Richie saw Maggie beaming at her father's pride. 'We'll be home in ten, I reckon.'

Eddie replied, 'Great. I won't be long either. I'm just at the store, do you want anything?'

Richie was surprised. He scoffed, 'I added all my items to the whiteboard list on the fridge, as per your standard protocol.'

'Don't make fun of the protocol,' Eddie scolded. 'I was just wondering if you wanted to get anything else. Anything special.'

'Ice cream!' Maggie hollered.

'What's the occasion?' Richie asked, furrowing his brow. Not his birthday. Not Eddie's birthday or Maggie's.

Eddie chuckled nervously, 'Does there have to be an occasion?'

Suspicious, but not wanting to raise Maggie's alarm bells, Richie conceded, 'I suppose not. Well, you know I like ice cream as much as Mags does. We could also get some popcorn, Cheetos and soda and maybe show her how we always used to do movie night?'

'Now that,' Eddie said emphatically, 'is a great idea.'

'Yeah? Okay, cool. See you in a bit.' Richie smiled as Eddie said his goodbyes and hung up.

Back at the house, Richie parked up and helped Maggie with her school bag and swimming kit. They both changed into some comfortable jogging bottoms before going into the kitchen, where Maggie sat up on the counter and started on her homework while Richie prepped for dinner.

Eddie always left out the exact recipe book open on the right page before he left for work in the morning. Sometimes he scribbled notes in the margins such as: 'use half this amount of oil' or 'broccoli instead of beans for M' or 'make sure you turn the oven on before you start frying things!'

'How do you spell 'comedian'?' Maggie asked suddenly, looking up from her paper.

Richie spelled it for her, then asked slyly, cracking a pepper mill, 'Why?'

'It's just this thing I have to do for school,' Maggie shrugged. 'For writing.'

'Like a story?' Richie asked.

Maggie shook her head, 'No. I have all these questions from my teacher and I have to pick someone in my family to answer them.'

Richie's stirring slowed, 'You picked me.' It wasn’t a question, but Richie felt like it should have been.

'Yeah,' Maggie grinned. When Richie didn't immediately grin back, she shuffled, 'Is that okay?'

He struggled, 'Why didn't you ask your daddy?'

'Because I wanted to ask you,' Maggie blinked, as though this could not be more obvious.

'I'm not sure that I'm what they mean when they say,' Richie trailed off and tried again. 'I think they mean like an aunt or a grandparent.'

Maggie furrowed her brow. 'But Grandma Sonia died and Daddy doesn't have any brothers or sisters. And Mummy's parents live in Wyoming and her sister doesn't talk to her anymore.'

Richie winced at that. 'Right.'

'Besides, you're family. You live with me and Daddy.'

'But –'

'And Daddy says you're family.' 

Richie almost dropped a baking tray. He collected himself, even as his heart thudded in his chest. 'He might have said that I'm _like_ family.'

She shook her head, frowning. 'No. I remember because I asked Daddy and Daddy doesn't tell lies to me.'

Closing the oven door, Richie gripped the handle a little too tightly. 'Maggie, are you sure?'

Nodding certainly, she said, 'Daddy says that family can be something you choose. He chooses you. And I choose you too.'

Taking a moment to absorb this, Richie's lower lip trembled. He took the chopping board over to the sink. 'How do you choose?' Richie asked, as nonchalantly as he could.

She smacked her palm down on the table. 'That's so funny. I asked Daddy the same thing. He says the best way he found was to choose the people that you love no matter what.'

Sticking his tongue between his back teeth and biting down was enough to stop Richie from breaking, but tears still sprang in his eyes. 'Then I guess we are a family.'

Hopping down from the counter-top, she went and wrapped her arms around one of Richie's legs. 'Yeah? Does that mean you choose me too?'

He looked down at her, right in the eyes that so closely resembled Eddie's. 'Of course I do. How could I not choose you?'

She beamed and scrambled to wrap her arms around his waist, burying her cheek against his stomach. 'Love you, Richie.'

He smiled warmly, so unbelievably and ridiculously overjoyed and overwhelmed. 'Love you too, Mags.'

She squeezed until he wheezed, then she let him go, laughing. 'I need to go to the bathroom,' she announced.

There was a noise beyond the kitchen door. 'Eddie, is that you?' Richie called out.

Hesitantly, Eddie pushed into the room. He was immediately greeted with a hug and a hello from Maggie, who then slipped past him and out into the corridor. The door banged shut, leaving Richie and Eddie alone.

Richie smiled at him. 'Dinner's nearly ready. Sauce needs to reduce down and there's ten minutes left on the oven timer. Do you need help with the shopping?'

'Richie,' Eddie said softly. 'I overheard your conversation.'

He smacked his lips together. 'Oh.'

'I didn't want to interrupt.' 

Richie tried to avoid a voice crack. 'She thinks of me as family.'

Subtly nodding, swallowing, Eddie tried to avoid the same. 'And she loves you.'

'And you think of me as family?' Richie asked, feeling as though there were a fist clenched around each of his lungs.

Eddie sighed erratically. 'Yeah. Yeah, I do. Always have, really.'

Richie wished he could reciprocate the sentiment. 'I've never thought about it the way you do before.'

'You had good parents,' Eddie said steadily, walking over to Richie.

Richie braced, but Eddie only leaned to turn the hob flame down. 'I like your way though,' he blurted.

Eddie looked up at him, all too close. 'Yeah?'

'And we are. I do,' Richie said, hands closing into fists, nails squeezing into his palms. Awkward, he flicked his gaze away and back, but he wanted to say it, to say something. 'No matter what.'

Flushing, Eddie smacked his lips together before he said quietly, 'Yeah. I know. I do too. No matter what.'

'Is that a challenge?' Richie joked, too afraid of the tension which scored through his forearms and down his shins, trying not to obsess over what Eddie had just said.

'You're an asshole,' Eddie mumbled, but he smiled.

'That's me,' Richie agreed, staring down at him fondly.

Eddie averted his gaze and stepped away to pull plates out of the cupboard. 'Any chance you're an asshole who wants to start paying rent?'

Spinning on his heels, Richie frowned. 'I thought you didn't want to sublet.'

'I don’t have to.'

'We've talked about this, Eds,' Richie started, but Eddie cut him off.

'Divorce was finalised today. It's done. I'm no longer married. We've divided the assets and, most importantly, shared custody has been sorted.'

Anxious, Richie shifted his weight back and forth. 'You said there wasn't an occasion.'

He pulled a face. 'Well, it feels wrong to outright celebrate a divorce.'

'So you want to celebrate me paying rent instead?' Richie asked, giddy.

'That was the idea,' Eddie chuckled, forcing a front of bravado, but Richie could tell that he was nervous. 'Fancy kicking about in New York a little longer?'

Richie pretended to consider it. He nodded, 'I can think of worse places to be.'

'Derry, for instance?' Eddie jibed, but his voice was higher than usual, strained.

'Anywhere,' Richie said without thinking. Before Eddie could say anything else, Maggie tottered back into the room and he said, 'Dinner's nearly ready. Could you help me set the table, Mags?'

'I'll bring the shopping in,' Eddie muttered, and left.

The three ate together and afterwards, Richie told Maggie to go to her bedroom and fetch all the pillows and duvets to bring to the sitting room. So small, she brought things one at a time, slowly watching the room transform around her as Richie turned the armchairs back to back and stretched a sheet over the top of them.

'Are we building a fort?' Maggie squealed.

'Forts make movies so much better,' Richie said, as Eddie came in bearing bowls of ice cream, popcorn and crisps.

'What do you want to watch?' Eddie asked her, handing a bowl to Richie. Their fingertips brushed as he took it off him.

As Maggie perused the movie collection, Eddie heaved himself into the space beside Richie, shoulder to shoulder.

Having chosen a film, and Maggie clambered into the space on the other side of Eddie, curling up against him.

'Not much room under here,' Eddie said, hunching.

'Guess you have grown since we were kids after all,' Richie commented, and Eddie elbowed him.

As the film rolled, Richie thought of countless movie nights which he and Eddie had shared, at the cinema or the drive-in, at his home or Eddie's house, with the other Losers or alone together.

Even now, as Richie tried to recall, he couldn't think of a single title, but he remembered Eddie. Remembered his gasps of surprise, his squeals of terror, his boos and his cheers, his scoffs and his praise.

He remembered Eddie throwing popcorn at the screen, pointing out medical inaccuracies, exaggeratedly yawning at climactic romantic scenes. He remembered Eddie catching his eye when he laughed, grappling for his hand when he was really scared and falling asleep on his shoulder.

By the end of the movie, Maggie was dozing. Eddie scooped her up into his arms and took her to bed, whilst Richie collected her duvets and pillows, hastily assembling before Eddie lay her down.

Back in the sitting room, they collapsed onto the sofa behind the fort.

'Divorced officially,' Richie said. 'New chapter for Eddie Kaspbrak, eh? Or should I say a new chapter for Princess Lily?'

'Not if you want to keep your face un-slapped,' Eddie warned, then sighed. 'But yeah. New chapter. About time there was one.'

'Glad I get to be in it,' Richie said. 'Or should I say Lucky Steven?'

Eddie huffed, 'I'm going to kill you.'

'Princess Lily and Lucky Steven's Brutal Murder,' Richie suggested.

He snorted a laugh. 'Think Maggie might have some complaints about that plot-line.'

'Not-So-Lucky Steven,' Richie commented.

Eddie hummed, 'Might be a more suitable nickname, given the shit we've been through.'

'Nah,' Richie dared, 'I feel pretty lucky to have ended up here.'

Looking at him melancholically, Eddie said, 'It's not the end yet.'

Richie imagined an ending he'd envisioned a thousand times over the course of his life, the ending he desperately wanted, the ending he had all but resigned himself to the fact that he would never have.

'It would be a good ending, if it was.' Richie said resolutely. 'That's all I meant.'

Eddie snatched Richie's gaze effortlessly, the way that he always could. 'Come on, Rich. We just said it. New chapter is just beginning.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh the domestic FLUFF of it all! come find me on tumblr @intouchwithhumanity-ao3 or @peel-back :)


	9. Give Me A Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie are invited to dinner at Vanessa's.

'Dinner at Vanessa's on Friday,' Eddie said, appearing at Richie's bedroom door, fingers gripped around the jamb.

Richie looked up from his notepad scribbles. Still so few decent gags, and his manager was starting to get impatient.

She was talking about resurrecting an old tour show to get buzz back up, sending Richie onto interviews to talk plainly about overcoming his addictions to explain the hiatus or rehiring the writing team which had provided the material over the last few years.

Richie didn’t want to do any of those things. He wanted to perform his own show on his own terms, but that didn't work without the jokes.

'Do you need me to look after Mags?' Richie asked.

'She's invited too,' Eddie affirmed. 'And so are you.'

Raising his eyebrows, Richie simply said, 'Oh.'

'Kids probably won't eat with us. It'll just be the four adults for food. Kimberley's meant to be an excellent cook.'

Richie shrugged, 'Guess we'll see for ourselves.'

'Is that a yes?'

Richie cleared his throat. 'Well, I don't have any other plans.'

'Are you sure?' Eddie asked quietly. 'You don't seem all that eager.'

In actuality, Richie was incredibly eager. He and Vanessa had struck up a good rapport, often running into each other down at the swimming pool, and he found her to be raucously funny, sharing his taste in humour. He'd not met Kim before, but Vanessa talked about her enough that Richie had built up a picture in his head of a remarkably accomplished woman who had led a fascinating life.

Yet, Richie felt most excited and most guilty for his excitement because Vanessa and Kim were a couple. Vanessa had been married before, to a man, but she had left him and was now married to a woman.

'I'm just trying to remember the last time I went to a dinner party,' Richie said with a shy smile. 'Sounds like fun. And I get on really well with Ness.'

Richie hardly ever found himself in the company of openly queer adults through his career; he supposed that his Trashmouth shtick put off a warding image. He didn't look like a safe space for them.

Nor had they been a safe space for him when they had come around. Scandals had stalked his past, and Richie had learned to be careful lest his managers, producers and agents come breathing down his neck, urging him to consider his audience, which consisted predominantly of straight men.

Let alone the small heartbreaks as one night stands and secret liaisons became excuses for men to grasp for their fifteen minutes of fame by leaking photographs and stories to the tabloids. After a while, Richie had shut that side of himself off completely. It was easier that way.

'Great,' Eddie nodded. 'Ness has said smart casual for dress code, but I know for a fact that Kim always looks sensational, so –'

'I'll make an effort,' Richie rolled his eyes. 'Should I shave?'

Eddie cocked his head. 'I don't know what you'd even look like without the beard.'

'Maybe I don't need it anymore,' Richie mused, and for some reason, he thought about his ex-girlfriend Sandra.

Things were different now. Richie had changed his surroundings to New York City and moved in with his childhood best friend whom he loved with all his heart. He remembered his past with staggering clarity, spreading roots across the country through the other Losers, anchoring him and reminding him that he wasn't alone. He was as close to a parent as he'd ever imagined that he would be and it was that relationship which kept him sober, because he refused to let her down.

And he had come out. Once, to Beverly. Despite a rocky initial conversation, she had been kind and loving and supportive, in a way that he'd never experienced before. She encouraged him to find a way to embrace it in himself, even if he wasn't ready to tell his friends, tell his manager or tell Eddie yet.

Easier said than done. Richie didn't know how to embrace something which he had spent so much time squeezing into the far recesses of his soul. He wasn't sure that it was all in one piece anymore, even if he could find it all.

'You do suit it, though,' Eddie said, studying him.

Richie couldn’t help but blush under Eddie's scrutiny. 'Yeah? I could pare it back. Just leave the stubble.'

'Yeah. You'd look too clean, you know, if you were,' he rolled his eyes at himself, 'clean-shaven.'

'Thought you liked things clean, Eds?' Richie joked.

'Think you've cleaned up enough,' Eddie said, smiling softly. 'I'll let Vanessa know we're coming.'

For a while now, Richie had suspected that Vanessa might be a key. She was out and proud, someone who had come out later in life, someone who was in the same sort of environment to him, someone who was already within his circle of friends and someone that he knew Eddie liked.

He wanted to spend some time with Vanessa and Eddie together, and Vanessa's wife too, to see how Eddie acted and interacted with them. They were his friends. Eddie had queer friends. That meant something to Richie, meant an awful lot.

'Okay,' Richie said. 'I'll pop out tomorrow and get some flowers or something for us to take over.'

Eddie looked impressed, 'That'd be great.'

Not that he'd expected Eddie to be homophobic. Realistically, he knew that New York was one of the more tolerant cities across the United States when it came to the queer community. Plus, Eddie had always been one of the most empathetic and most accepting people he'd ever known, since he'd been through so much himself.

It was just that Richie didn't know how to be a gay man. He especially didn't know how to be a gay man and still be the version of himself that Eddie knew and loved.

It was one thing to be a gay man and Eddie's friend, but he was also Eddie's roommate and someone that Eddie trusted with his life and with his daughter. Richie couldn't help but ponder if Eddie would feel betrayed that Richie had kept this secret from him for so long, would believe that he'd never really known Richie at all, would wonder what other secrets he was keeping.

Richie's heart wrenched and he wriggled uncomfortably. 'Or we could do dessert.'

The corners of Eddie's mouth drooped. 'Can you bake?'

'How hard can it be?' Richie shrugged, clambering off of the bed. 'Picked up cooking alright, didn't I?'

'Baking is totally different, Rich.'

Richie walked over to him. 'Can you bake?'

Not wanting to brag, Eddie hunched his shoulders. 'A little.'

'Then you can teach me?' Richie suggested. 'I'm sure Mags would find it fun to bake with us.'

'Oh, she fucking loves baking. You have no idea.' Eddie laughed.

'That's settled then.' He clapped a hand onto Eddie's arm. 'If it all goes wrong, we'll just buy something and say we made it.'

Eddie shook his head disapprovingly and clamped his hand on top of Richie's. 'You're terrible.' Then he gently pushed Richie off and started down the corridor.

'You have no idea,' Richie teased, biting his lower lip as he watched Eddie walk away.

\---

'You have to sieve the flour, Richie!' Maggie chided, slapping at his hands. She had a purple apron tied around her waist which was almost clean. Richie's green one was stained with butter, sugar and caramel.

'Oi!' Richie chuckled, dotting flour on the tip of her nose. 'Why?'

Eddie stepped in to place a sieve over the bowl in front of Richie. 'It stops the batter from being lumpy.'

Richie turned and dotted flour on the tip of Eddie's nose too. 'Know-it-all.'

'It's Baking 101, asshole,' Eddie muttered, dotting Richie's nose back.

'Bad word, Daddy!' Maggie reminded.

'Sorry, honey,' Eddie apologised. 'Sometimes Richie brings that out in me because he's so very annoying.'

'I'm a delight,' Richie countered, whisking.

'Can I lick the beaters?' Maggie asked once the cake tins were loaded into the oven.

'One,' Eddie said, 'and don't tell your mom.'

Richie handed it to her and she demolished it quickly, then tottered out of the room, saying that she was going to watch cartoons until the cake was ready to be iced and decorated.

Richie removed the other beater from the whisk and tasted it. 'Oh, that's good.' Proffering it to Eddie, he said, 'You know you want to.'

Eddie took it. Batter dripped down onto his hand even as he licked heartily. 'Fucking hell, it's going everywhere.'

Laughing, Richie handed him a paper towel, remembering countless occasions as kids where he and Eddie had shared an ice cream. 'You're a mess.'

'Doesn't taste half-bad though,' Eddie conceded, cleaning up. 'Maybe you could be a baker after all.'

'I have a good teacher,' Richie winked.

Hastily, Eddie started to gather the mixing bowls to soak. 'Fuck off, Tozier.'

'I'm looking forward to tonight,' Richie said.

'Yeah?' Eddie smiled. 'Me too.'

The cake smelled incredible and Maggie took a great deal of care icing and decorating it, dolloping buttercream between the layers. They all took their time getting ready; Richie trimmed away the bulk of his beard until only a neat, thin layer of stubble remained. It made him look younger.

Dressed, Richie knocked on Eddie's door.

'Come in,' Eddie called.

'What do you think?' Richie asked, waltzing into the room in a new open collared linen shirt, pressed slacks and loose jacket.

Turning around, Eddie surveyed the sight before him. 'Huh.' He nodded, 'Yeah, you look good.'

'Didn't know it was possible, eh?' Richie jested, his voice a tone higher than usual as he tried not to stare at Eddie too overtly.

He was wearing a thin wool jumper over a stiff-collared shirt with dark jeans. 'Is Mags ready?' he asked, tweaking his hair in the mirror.

'She's good to go,' Richie assured.

'Then let's.'

It was a short drive that Richie was happy to make. He'd been fairly candid with Vanessa about his sobriety, but should Kimberley ask, it was some small relief that Richie could say he was driving this evening.

They were greeted warmly. Maggie was sat down to eat within a few minutes of arrival so that she and Vanessa's daughter could scamper away to play. In the meantime, Richie and Eddie stood chatting idly in the kitchen with Vanessa as Kimberley bustled about them cooking.

'Okay, I think we can sit up,' Kimberley said, ushering them through into the dining space.

Richie marvelled at the size of the place, then marvelled again at the high-end décor, and again at the quality of the food which was placed before him. 'This is incredible, Kim.'

'Kimberley,' she corrected, and both Vanessa and Eddie laughed.

'Oh, big mistake, honey,' Vanessa seethed, rubbing a hand on Kimberley's thigh. 'You will have a nickname for life now.'

'I've been Eds for about thirty years,' Eddie grumbled.

Richie added, 'Not just Eds. Eduardo. Eddie-Spaghetti. Spaghetti-Head. Spaghetti-Man…'

'Kim is fine,' Kimberley held up her hands in defeat, then laughed.

'Wise,' Eddie smirked.

All in all, it was an easy and pleasant evening. The cake too went down a treat, which Richie shamelessly gloated was his first ever attempt at baking. Polite and curious, Richie asked for stories of Vanessa and Kimberley's meeting, their wedding, their life together. Occasionally, he felt Eddie's eyes on him.

Both Vanessa and Eddie had a healthy amount to drink, giggling together. When it grew late, Vanessa pulled Eddie into her office, gushing about the workplace which they both shared and ideas she had to present at the next board meeting.

Richie went to follow them, but Kimberley waved him back. 'Leave them to it,' she said. 'I thought you might appreciate the view from our balcony.'

'Sure,' Richie said, traipsing behind her until they were outside. 'Wow. That is quite a fucking view.'

Kimberley's cheek tightened as he swore, but she rested her hands gracefully onto the railing. 'You know, I've seen a lot of your stand-up. Vanessa's been a fan as long as I've known her.'

'It's okay if it's not your thing,' Richie said awkwardly, sensing a weight to her tone. 'I know I'm not for everyone.'

'You're clearly very funny, Richie,' Kimberley said steadily. 'But I can't say I connect with your material, particularly.'

'I'm not convinced I do either,' Richie said honestly.

Kimberley nodded. 'I thought not. That's what I mean, though, when I say I don't connect. I don't get the sense you believe much of what you say onstage. I was pleasantly surprised to meet you this evening. The real you. I wasn't sure if I was going to like you based on your shows, but I do. Very much.'

'Well, thank you,' Richie said, embarrassed. 'I've been trying to write new stuff recently, and I just can't seem to make it work like I used to.'

'Are you trying to be Richie Tozier, or are you still trying to be Trashmouth?'

Richie's brow knitted. 'I've always been Trashmouth.'

'Looking at your life now, I wonder if you've outgrown him,' Kimberley said coyly, twisting her neck over her shoulder to look back into the house.

Following her gaze, Richie watched as Eddie and Vanessa reappeared into the scene and went to open an expensive bottle of port. A lump in his throat, Richie shook his head. 'I don't want to outgrow him.'

'Because he's who you were when you and Eddie met,' Kimberley guessed.

Richie snapped his head back to her. 'Excuse me?'

She sighed. 'Eddie and I are very similar people. And I see a lot of Vanessa in you, if I'm honest.'

He swallowed, knees buckling. 'What's your point?'

'Who she is now is a very different woman to the one I met and fell in love with. I don't keep her around because of who she was. I keep her around because of who she is. And because of who we are together. I love her differently every day, but never less.'

Richie shivered as the wind picked up and died. 'She's a lucky woman.'

Kimberley smiled at him, sage. 'You're allowed to change. The right people have a funny habit of growing with us.'

He shook his head. 'I'm not afraid to change. Maybe I used to be, but I'm not anymore. Fucking hell, I've changed so much these past few months.'

'Then what are you afraid of?' she asked.

'A lot of things,' Richie huffed, bracing himself to tell the truth, in whatever guise. 'Maybe I'm not Trashmouth anymore. But I've never really been Richie Tozier either and I'm afraid to be him. What if nobody fucking likes him?'

'I like him,' Kimberley said certainly. 'Vanessa likes him. Maggie likes him. Eddie likes him.'

'You don't understand,' Richie said, a little too firmly. 'I'm not him.'

'No, you don't understand,' Kimberley retorted, 'that you _are_ him.'

'Not quite. He's,' Richie threw his head back and groaned. 'Why am I talking to you about this?'

'Because I asked,' she said, 'and you've been waiting for someone to do so.'

'You don't know me,' he spluttered.

Kimberley sighed and went back to the door. Before she pushed to let them back inside, she said, 'People don't have to know everything in order to see who you are.'

There was no time for Richie to say anything else as she opened the door and went to greet her wife with a kiss. Across the room, Eddie grinned broadly at Richie and beckoned him over. Richie went.

Intoxicated, Eddie snaked one arm around Richie's shoulders and pointed at Vanessa with the other. 'You have to show Vanessa your impression of me.'

'Absolutely not,' Richie refused, as he felt Eddie's hand drop to his waist.

'Please?' Vanessa begged.

Kimberley draped her arms around Vanessa's neck. 'Go on.'

Richie relented, if only to distract himself from the heat of Eddie's body so near his own. He performed and the group erupted into laughter.

'You know me so well,' Eddie admitted.

'Do you have an impression of Richie?' Kimberley asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Of course,' Eddie insisted, then descended into character, both accurately and mercilessly until Richie begged him to stop through his laughter.

Kimberley met Richie's gaze. 'I'd say Eddie knows you pretty well too, Richie.'

'Better than anyone,' Eddie agreed, smiling up at him.

Richie looked at him, and he had never felt more in love or more exhausted as he saw something of himself reflected in Eddie's eyes. 'Maybe,' he said quietly. 'Maybe you do.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love love xxx


	10. Jump Into The Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie asks Richie for the end of the story.

Richie tugged the blankets up over Maggie. The night before, he had told her his latest Princess Lily tale, of how Lucky Steven had coped with the day that Princess Lily left the kingdom, how he had been comforted by Prince Sam, Danny Boy and the Wise Man. Even now, thinking about Eddie leaving broke Richie's heart.

'Richie?' she asked.

'Yeah?'

'Do you know what happened to them all in the end?' Her voice was small, her eyes wide and innocent. 'Did Lucky Steven ever see Princess Lily again?'

Richie nodded. 'He did. You remember the dragon?'

'Duh,' Maggie rolled her eyes.

'Well, when we fought the dragon, it didn’t really die. Instead, it transformed into a black curse which swept over the kingdom. It was a forgotten place, and anyone who left never remembered that they had been there.'

'Oh no. Does that mean that Princess Lily forgot the kingdom? And the Good Witch and the carpenter, did they forget too?'

'They all forgot. They forgot the kingdom and,' his voice cracked, 'they forgot each other. And when Lucky Steven left, he forgot, and so did Sam and so did Danny Boy. Only the Wise Man stayed in the kingdom and remembered. He was waiting, because he knew that one day he might need to call his friends home.'

'So what happened to them while they were gone?'

Richie huffed. 'Prince Sam married a beautiful princess from another land. The carpenter grew big and strong, and built himself a whole new kingdom. Danny Boy met a lovely lady and settled down with her and the birds in the Lost City of Atlantis. The Good Witch was captured by an Evil Warlock, but she was still able to create beautiful things to make other people happy.'

'What about the Princess and Lucky Steven?'

His heart clenched. 'The Princess got married too. She got married and she had a beautiful baby. Steven forgot that he was ever a knight, so he went back to being a jester. He was very good at it and he made a lot of money.'

'But they weren't together,' Maggie said sadly.

Richie shook his head. 'No. Lucky Steven always felt like something was missing, but he could never quite remember what it was.'

'He needed his friends.'

'He did. They were apart for over two decades, but eventually the Wise Man called them home and as soon as they were back, they remembered each other. They gave each other hugs and told each other jokes and stories, and it felt like an eternity had passed and no time at all.'

'Why did the Wise Man call them home?' Maggie asked.

Slapping his forehead, Richie explained, 'Because the evil had returned. It had gathered enough of its strength to transform back into a dragon.'

Maggie gasped and tugged the blanket up over her mouth and nose, afraid. 'Did they fight it?'

'They did. It was very difficult and they saw many awful things, but because they faced everything together, the evil was vanquished forever and the black curse was lifted.'

'Hooray!' Maggie cheered. 'Did the kingdom thank them?'

Richie shook his head. 'The rest of the kingdom didn't realise that anything had happened. It was the dragon's final revenge. So Princess Lily and her friends decided that they would leave the kingdom for good.'

'Oh,' Maggie frowned. 'So then what happened?'

Rubbing his hands on his kneecaps, Richie explained, 'Prince Sam went back to his princess and they are very, very happy. The Wise Man was finally able to leave the kingdom and decided to travel to far off lands, to brighter and prettier places. Danny Boy went back to his lovely lady, but the city of Atlantis is no longer lost, and his friends can visit him whenever they like.'

'Is the Good Witch okay now?'

'Oh, yes. The Good Witch escaped the Evil Warlock and fell in love with the carpenter, who you know always loved her, and he built them a magnificent ship to sail the seas together.'

'Wow,' Maggie breathed excitedly. 'That's a good ending for them.'

'Yeah,' Richie agreed happily. 'It's a great ending for them.'

'What about Lucky Steven and Princess Lily?' she asked excitedly. 'Are they going to get married?'

Richie almost choked. He laughed to hide the hurt. 'No. No, but they are both much happier now. Lucky Steven remembers now that he was once a knight, and he's trying really hard to be one every day. He sees Princess Lily all the time and they are the best of friends.'

Maggie furrowed her brow and twisted her lips. 'They're supposed to be together.'

'They are,' Richie sighed. 'In a way. That's enough.'

'But Lucky Steven _loves_ Princess Lily.' 

Struggling, Richie felt like the walls were closing in around him. 'They're friends,' he insisted.

'He loves her.'

'Maggie,' Richie warned.

Scoffing, Maggie clambered out of her bed and pulled out the stack of yellow notebooks from her shelf. 'No,' she said firmly, spilling them onto the bedclothes. 'It's so, so obvious all the way through. He's always doing nice things for her and he holds her hand and makes sure she's safe. He loves her so much and she knows that he loves her.'

'She knows he loves her as a friend.'

'Friends don't kiss.'

'And Steven doesn't ever kiss Lily,' Richie stuttered, wishing that Maggie would stop talking, wishing that he could get up and leave, but she wouldn't understand if he did.

'What about the ball?' Maggie whined, folding her arms.

'The ball?' Richie quizzed. 'What ball?'

Maggie rifled between the notebooks and handed one to Richie. She pointed emphatically at the cover. 'The summer ball.'

'Princess Lily and the Summer Ball,' Richie read. 'I can't read this. You know I can't.'

'Fine,' Maggie sighed. 'Then I'll tell you what happens.'

'Maggie, don’t.'

She took no heed. 'Princess Lily was supposed to go to the summer ball with Lucky Steven and the Wise Man and Prince Sam, but at the last minute, the Wicked King told her that she wasn't allowed to go.'

'Prom,' Richie mumbled under his breath.

'But Lucky Steven said that he wouldn't go without Princess Lily. So he dressed in his finest suit and he gathered his horse and he rode over to the castle to get her. He climbed up the trellis and she hauled him through the window and he told her that his chariot awaited her and that she would go to the ball with him and the rest of her friends.'

Richie put his head in his hands as the memories slotted clumsily in his brain.

Maggie went on, 'But the Wicked King had been too clever. He had told the guards at the ball that should Princess Lily arrive, she should be turned away and that he would punish her. So Princess Lily told Lucky Steven that she couldn't go, but that he shouldn't miss it.'

Sighing, Richie recalled, 'But he didn't go.'

'He didn't go. He went and he pushed the heaviest bookshelf in front of Princess Lily's door and he told her to put on her ball dress, which was beautiful and blue.'

Groaning, Richie remembered the blue suit of which Eddie was so proud. All the boys had been out to shop together, trying on garish suspenders and heinous ties, but no matter what Eddie wore, Richie couldn’t help but think he looked perfect.

Maggie had flipped through the book to the right page, so that she could get the details perfectly right. 'Steven went to the music box and he put on Princess Lily's favourite song. He told her that if she couldn't go to the ball then they would just have to make their own.'

Richie bit his lip. 'And they did.'

'They did. Lucky Steven hauled Princess Lily up to her feet to dance with him. Lucky Steven hated dancing but he knew that Princess Lily loved it, so he promised to dance with her all night long.'

Richie was no dancer; he knew that. Yet with Eddie he could dance however he liked, because Eddie would laugh with him, teach him steps and lark around with him in the way that they never could when other people were around.

Maggie furrowed her brow, half-reading and half-reciting the story she had been told for years. 'She was so happy that she could hardly bear it, and she held him so tightly, because she couldn't believe that Lucky Steven would give up his one night at the ball for a millionth night with her.'

'Maggie, that's enough,' Richie said, but there was no sincerity in his voice, no anger or authority.

'She asked him, 'Why would you do this for me?' And he said –'

'I'd do anything for you,' Richie finished.

She nodded. 'He said, 'I'd do anything for you, because I love you.''

Richie's face scrunched and he spluttered, 'What?'

'And then he kissed her,' Maggie said, splaying the book out flat in front of her and pointing at the words on the page. 

'What?' Richie repeated, snatching the book up to read and re-read the sentences scrawled there in Eddie's perfect script. 'But I didn’t,' he trailed off.

'Be careful,' Maggie said, eyeing how Richie's thumbs indented into the paper.

'That's how the story ends?' he asked, flicking through the blank pages after the fictional kiss.

'That's the last one Daddy wrote,' Maggie said carefully, deeply confused.

Hardly able to breathe, Richie swept the sweat from his brow and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t make sense of things, couldn't reconcile what he was reading with the memories in his head. He had never told Eddie that he loved him. He had never kissed him.

However, maybe some part of Eddie knew. Perhaps some part of Eddie knew that Richie loved him, knew that Richie wanted to kiss him, and that part of him had given Richie the ending that he'd somehow known Richie wanted. Only, Richie couldn't imagine why Eddie would do such a thing.

If Eddie had remembered all this time or at least since Richie reminded him of Princess Lily's true origin, then Richie had been so afraid of Eddie discovering something which he already carried with him. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, if it was both or neither, simple or complicated, right or so, so wrong.

'Richie?'

Richie stood up and putting the books back onto the shelf. 'It's late. Do you think you can go to sleep now?'

'Are you okay?' she asked quietly, reaching out for his hand.

He nodded and squeezed her fingers. 'Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I've just had a really long day and think I need to get some sleep.' In his other hand, he clutched at Princess Lily and the Summer Ball.

'Okay,' Maggie said. 'I'm sorry if I made you sad. I really liked the story. I'm glad that Princess Lily and you,' she stopped herself, correcting, 'Lucky Steven are friends.'

Richie turned his face away from her and screwed up his nose. 'Me too.' He composed himself, then turned back around and kissed her forehead. 'Goodnight, Mags.'

'Night, Richie. I love you lots and lots.'

'Love you too,' Richie promised, and turned out the light.

He stepped into the corridor and stared at the blank wall in front of him, wondering if he was going to cry, but no tears came. He expected his mind to be flurried, chaotic, but it was quiet, serene and empty. Data shutdown. Emotional burnout.

Unsteady, he walked down the hall to the awning of the lounge, where he stopped short, confronted with Eddie sat there on the sofa.

'Hey, Rich,' Eddie greeted with a smile. 'Maggie asleep?'

Shaking, he said, 'Not quite.'

Worried, Eddie asked, 'Are you okay?' His eyes flicked to the yellow book in Richie's hand and, stone-faced, he stood up. 'What is that?'

'It's a Princess Lily book,' Richie said honestly. He held it up so that Eddie could see the title. 'It's the last one.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my god i am so sorry for the cliffhanger but you're in luck there will be two more chapters after this one !


	11. Here Comes The Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie confronts Eddie about the last Princess Lily book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long since I last updated but here is chapter 11 - just one more to go ! Thanks to everyone who's still be pressing me for updates - you keep me going.

Staring at the book in Richie's hand, Eddie scolded, 'I told you not to read them.'

'I didn't,' Richie assured. 'Maggie just showed it to me. I asked her not to. I'm not sure if I wish she hadn't.'

Evidently terrified, Eddie stumbled over his words as she staggered closer to Richie. 'I can explain.'

'I can't,' Richie blurted, stepping back.

Eddie rambled, 'It's not us. I just made up an ending.'

'But why make up this one?' Richie stressed.

'I know that’s not what happened.'

'Believe me, I would have remembered,' Richie said, his face puckering, unsure what this all meant for them, for the life they had now.

'I didn't know what I was writing,' Eddie gulped. 'I didn't know I was writing about myself all this time. It got blurry somewhere in the middle. I was misremembering. I got it confused. I was confused.'

'You think _you_ were confused? Christ, I'm still figuring bits out twenty years later.'

Bewilderment on his face, Eddie straightened. 'What do you mean you're _still_ figuring bits out twenty years later?' The bewilderment blended with horror. 'Did you know back then?'

Uncertainly, Richie said, 'Yeah, I knew back then.'

Eddie's mouth flapped open and closed, but for a good few seconds, no sounds came out. Clipped and panicking, he managed, 'You knew? Fuck. How? I barely fucking understood. You never – we didn't – I wasn't -'

Like an old reflex from days gone by, Richie dropped the book, swept over to Eddie and placed his hands on his shoulders. 'Whoa, breathe.'

The words failed Eddie with a whimper and his head dropped into the cradle of his hands. Through swallowed air, he murmured, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'

'Hey, hey,' Richie said, trying to encourage Eddie to raise his head. Confused at Eddie's reaction, he repeated gently, 'It's okay. It's okay.'

Recovering his regular breathing, Eddie raised his head and groaned, 'I can't – I don't understand. If you knew, why are you asking about it now? Why now?'

'Because I didn't realise that _you_ knew all this time,' Richie said, blinking.

'Well,' he struggled, sniffing, 'I went back and forth. I forgot so much when I left Derry and it took a while to make sense of the memories when we went back there. Some of it still doesn't make sense. I mean, fucking hell, how did I get married?'

'What?'

He spluttered sarcastically, 'Thought you might have fucking noticed.'

Reeling, Richie spoke in staccato. 'I'm just not sure how that's, you know, relevant.'

Eddie's expression mirrored Richie's. 'Excuse me?'

'Not that your marriage was irrelevant,' Richie corrected quickly. 'Far fucking from it. I just – I'm not sure I follow.'

Shoulders curling inwards, Eddie couldn't meet Richie's eyes. 'Well, I mean,' he tried to explain the timeline in his head. 'I'm a kid in Derry. With you. Confused as fuck but eventually I know and it's fucking terrifying but I do know.'

Richie winced. He didn't want Eddie to be afraid of him, but he understood the feeling. To fear it was all they had been taught.

Tearfully, Eddie went on, 'Then I leave and I don't know anymore. I'm still confused but there's no you, so I can't figure it out like I did before.'

'What?' Richie mumbled, but Eddie wasn't finished, lost in a tirade.

'Then I come back to Derry and you're there and, fuck, it's like everything's fucking falling down around me because I remember and that means everything in my life is different to what I thought and I understand why I've been so unhappy and part of me wanted to hate you for making me feel that way, but I couldn't. I couldn't hate you because I only ever knew how to love you.'

Richie felt as though the gravity in the room had been switched off, like he and Eddie floated in non-reality. He could hear the seconds ticking off in his brain, slower and slower as he caught up with the different parts of himself.

'You _loved_ me?' Trembling, Richie's hands crept up from Eddie's shoulders to his collar. ' _You_ loved _me_?'

Barely beginning words, Eddie stared at him dumbfounded, but Richie could finally see it in Eddie's eyes, hear it in his querulous voice and feel it in every ripple of the air between them. Delayed, despondent and devastated, he finally realised what he had never let himself even consider.

Richie huffed. 'Fucking hell. We're not even on the same page when we're talking about the same fucking book.'

'What?' Eddie's gaze dropped down to the yellow square on the floor.

Richie formed each word with a great deal of effort, as though he wasn't sure they were words that were really coming out of his mouth. 'Eddie, I thought you knew that ending,' he exhaled, 'was the one _I_ wanted.'

Eddie's head snapped up. 'What?'

As his thumbs traced the curve of Eddie's jaw, Richie wasn't sure if he was crying or laughing or both. 'You loved me,' he said, and it was no longer a question.

'Richie?'

'I loved you.' It didn't feel like enough to say, so he tried again. 'God, I loved you, Eddie. So fucking much.'

'That's not funny, Richie,' Eddie said sombrely.

'I'm not trying to be,' he vowed. He couldn't work out how to look at Eddie in a way that was any different, any more meaningful, because Richie had only ever looked at Eddie one way. 'I mean it. Fuck, I mean it more than I've ever meant anything. I loved you. I always loved you.'

He closed his eyes, 'No, you didn’t.'

Desperate, Richie's knees buckled beneath him. 'Eddie, I was hopelessly, ridiculously, inconceivably in love with you.'

The corners of Eddie's mouth twitched downwards, still not believing, not willing to believe.

'I wanted to kiss you that night,' Richie blurted, and that felt more real, truer. 'Fuck, I wanted to kiss you a thousand times, but that night I so nearly did and it would have been worth it to have kissed you fucking once. Worth it so that you might fucking believe me right now.'

Eddie's brow furrowed and released. 'You were in love with me?' he asked, and the question glimmered. 

'I should have told you,' Richie said ruefully. 'I wish I'd told you.'

Eddie said darkly, 'I don't know what I would have done if you did.'

'I don't care. I should have told you anyway.' His eyes dropped to Eddie's lips. 'I should have kissed you.'

'I think that would have killed me,' Eddie mumbled, imagining.

'Think it would have killed me too.'

'No, Rich, you don't understand,' he said, shuddering. 'I was so scared back then. I'm still scared to be –' he stopped, the word stuck inside him. 'I still don't know everything. I can't – I never learned how to be –'

Still clasping at Eddie's neck, Richie stepped closer to him and realised the words even as he spoke them. 'You did. You do, because it's who you are. And I know who you are. I know you.'

'I don't want anything else to change,' he rasped. 'I don't. Christ alive. I'm divorced. I moved house. I got a new car. I got a new job. I got my childhood back. I got you back and I can't – I can't change anymore and I don't want you to either.'

There was a twist inside Richie. 'But you didn’t change. I didn't change. We never changed. We've always been this way, Eds. Christ, I know I have. I've tried running from it and pretending I'm not but I know who I am and I know you know me too. I'm exactly the fucking same as I always was.'

Erupting, Eddie broke into tears and Richie hauled him into his arms, embracing him more tightly and haphazardly than he ever had before, hands balling into fists around the fabric of Eddie's shirt, chin nestling into the crook of Eddie's neck. He felt Eddie's hands clamp around him, palms pressed to the flat of his back as his shoulders jolted.

'I'm sorry.' Eddie's words swallowed into Richie's collar. 'I'm sorry.'

'God, me too,' Richie gushed, unable to stop himself from pressing his lips to Eddie's temple, his forehead, his cheek. 'I'm so sorry, but I'm not sorry for loving you. I'm just sorry for never telling you. I'm sorry that I was a dumb, stupid idiot, but I was always a dumb, stupid idiot around you.'

Clutching at him tighter, Eddie only whimpered.

Richie encouraged, 'This is the part where you tell me I still am a dumb, stupid idiot around you.'

'You are,' Eddie murmured.

'Some things don't change.'

'But they do,' Eddie said morosely. 'It's not like it was. We're not kids anymore.'

Throat tightening, Richie choked, 'But I am _still_ a dumb, stupid idiot.'

Richie felt Eddie tense beneath him. He bit his lip anxiously, heart clambering brutally from its cavity in his chest and up into his throat. As Eddie started to pull back, pull away, he readied himself to take it back, to lie, to escape this situation in any way he could.

Yet, when Eddie looked at him, his eyes rippled with something which Richie had forgotten could exist in them, a look that he hadn't seen since he was a teenager. Real _hope_.

'Rich?'

'Yeah?'

There was a beat. 'Do you still love me?'

A smirk twitched nervously onto his lips. 'I only know how to love you.' 

'Is that a yes?'

'Do you still love me?' Richie asked quickly, knowing that if he didn't now, he never would.

Eddie looked at him imploringly. 'Richie, tell me.'

'Yes,' Richie exhaled, and finally, it felt like the truth. It felt whole. 'I still love you. I love you, Eds.'

Where Richie felt more solid and real than he ever had before, Eddie felt transient, almost ghostly. He reached out for Richie hesitantly, unsure where his hand would finally rest. When it made contact with Richie's cheek, he inhaled sharply, hurtling back into his body.

'I love you too.'

Richie broke into a wide smile that Eddie could feel beneath his fingers. 'Fucking hell, say that again.'

Eddie's face contorted. 'I'm going to wake up in a minute. I'm going to wake up and I'll still be in that fucking house.'

'No, Eds. You won't,' Richie swore, bringing his hands to Eddie's wrists. 'This is real. I'm real. I'm here.'

He whispered, 'All this time. I've wasted so much time. I wish we could go back and do it over.'

Richie shook his head. 'We don't need to.'

'But –'

'It's not too late.'

Eddie sighed. 'I have a daughter.'

Delicately, Richie let his thumb graze Eddie's lower lip. 'This is the ending she wants for us. You've been telling her our story since she was a baby. God, she was in there just now basically telling me to get my fucking act together.'

'This isn’t a story. We are real people, Rich, and real people make mistakes and they fuck up and I can't – I _can't_ lose you.'

'You won't.'

Eddie's chest vibrated. 'You can't promise me that.'

Richie could see that Eddie was afraid of everything that he was experiencing. He was afraid to be a gay man, he was afraid to be in love with Richie and he was especially afraid of having Richie love him back. Another time in another life, maybe Richie wouldn't know exactly what this meant, but he did.

It meant that Richie couldn't be afraid anymore. If Richie had learned anything from his time in Derry, it was that Eddie could be brave if Richie believed in him enough.

'I'm sick of being scared, Eddie,' Richie cried. 'Life is always going to be bigger than us. There's never a right time and things are always complicated. But this isn't. You knew you loved me even when you didn't know who I was. And fuck, I loved you too. I always did and I always will and I have never been this fucking close before so you better believe I will go down screaming and kicking before I let you tell me you're too scared.'

'I wish I wasn't,' Eddie said honestly.

Richie couldn't get nearer to Eddie if he tried. The tip of his nose grazed Eddie's. 'You are the bravest person I know and you make me want to be brave. You make me want to be better every day and fucking hell, I am. It's you and me, Eds.'

Eddie closed his eyes. As Richie felt his insides tearing themselves apart, he waited for Eddie to say something, to do something. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Eddie nodded. Richie held his breath as Eddie opened his eyes.

'You and me,' Eddie said.

A smile stretched across Richie's face. 'I love you, Eddie.'

'I love you too, Richie,' Eddie gushed, and at last, he kissed him.

It was a kiss which Richie had waited thirty years for, a kiss which had been written in fiction but never as fact, a kiss he had considered and reconsidered, and that he'd only dreamed Eddie would give to him.

Eddie still clutched at the lapels of Richie's shirt as their lips parted. Richie stared down at him with gorgeous revelry, joyful and melancholic, nostalgic and new, relieved and petrified. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything as searing sensation barraged their skin and powerful emotions surged and resurged in their blood.

'Eddie,' Richie said eventually. The name crumbled off his lips in a way that it never could have done before.

Eddie dared, 'Kiss me again.'

Hastily, Richie pulled Eddie back up to meet him, grappling at his clothes. Kisses flowed firm and desperate between them, gifting back and forth, sometimes missing each other's mouths entirely, but it hardly mattered.

They stumbled, trying to retain their balance without relinquishing their grip on the other for a moment, before collapsing onto the sofa. Eddie hauled himself on top of Richie, planting biting kisses onto the slope of his neck as Richie squeezed at the flesh of his waist.

'Remind me why we waited so long to do this?' Richie grunted.

Eddie growled, 'I should have just let you read the dumb books.' 

'God, let me look at you,' Richie begged, pulling Eddie's head back around. 'Fucking hell. You don't know what it did to me when I walked in and saw you at Jade of the Orient. In another life, I would have walked straight over and kissed you right there and then.'

'Kiss me now,' Eddie purred, hauling Richie up to sit so that he was straddled across his lap and for once, looking down at him and not the other way around.

Richie did. Over and over, relishing every detail and praying that the clocks would give him more hours of this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all soon - hope that you're staying safe.


	12. If It's Alright With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie finally take their vacation to Florida, with Mags of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it ! This is the last piece. Enjoy x

'Richie, where are my new swimming goggles?' Maggie hollered through the open window.

'They're already packed,' Richie hollered back, heaving a suitcase into the back of Eddie's car.

She whined, 'But I wanted to show them to Poppy.'

Eddie clambered out of the driver's seat, chuckling. 'She'll see them when we get there.'

Maggie frowned, then disappeared from the window sill.

Eddie came around to the back of the vehicle just as Richie closed the trunk with a thud. 'Think we're all set.'

'Our first vacation together,' Richie whistled.

The first vacation of many, he hoped. They were doing the road trip that they'd talked about since Eddie had been gifted the car, taking themselves and Maggie down to Florida. At Maggie's suggestion, Ness, Kimberley and their daughter Poppy had been invited too.

It was obvious to both Richie and Eddie that they would be visiting Mike whilst they were down there, but Richie had managed to rally the remainder of the Losers for a surprise simultaneous appearance, of which Eddie had no clue.

'This is a make-or-break moment, you know,' Eddie said.

Richie smirked, 'What's the worst that could happen?'

'Oh, I don't know,' he trilled his lips. 'Last vacation I had, there was this clown in the sewers.'

'Aw, come on, I'm not that scary,' Richie joked, going to stand behind him.

'I guess that was really our first vacation together,' Eddie said, grimacing.

Wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, Richie stressed, 'But this is our first vacation _together_.' Lightly, he kissed Eddie's neck, tracing up the tendon.

Richie loved it every time he got to say that he and Eddie were together. Coming out to Beverley had been so terrifying, but once Richie realised that he might just get to spend the rest of his life with the man he loved, he could hardly wait to tell the Losers, with Eddie's permission of course.

Even that started to not feel like enough, and so the new couple quickly told their friends in New York, including Ness and Kimberley and some other colleagues of Eddie's so that Richie could begin attending corporate dinners as Eddie's date.

Once they'd been to even the first one, someone tipped off the paparazzi outlets and speculations of Richie's sexuality hit the tabloids. One lucky photographer managed to snap a picture of Richie and Eddie in a romantic entanglement and, after a surprisingly positive reaction from the readers, Richie decided to announce himself to the world.

A few social media posts soon blossomed into articles and then televised interviews. While his fan-base had altered, it had most certainly grown, and Richie finally was able to set pen to paper on a new show, Months of writer's block morphed into endless streams of new material, the coming-out special which would debut after this summer beach trip.

'Careful, Rich,' Eddie breathed, shrugging out of Richie's passionate embrace even as he blushed. 'Maggie could come out any moment.'

Richie gasped, 'Gosh, then we'd just be one big gay family.'

Snorting, Eddie leaned back onto the trunk of the car. 'Not what I meant.'

'Is it the worst thing if she sees us kiss?' Richie whined, stepping closer so that Eddie had to crane his neck upwards.

Eddie's longing gaze dipped to Richie's lips, 'I just want to make sure I've given her an adjustment period. Time to wrap her head around the idea of us.'

'I think you just like to tease me,' Richie smirked, drawing his hand to Eddie's neck.

'That is true,' Eddie conceded, closing the gap between them. As Richie kissed him, he wondered how it was possible that his heart still raced and his knees still buckled like it was the first time.

They both jolted as they heard a high-pitched squeal, breaking apart and whipping their heads around to see Maggie stood there, clasping her hands over her mouth.

Trying to move past it, Eddie cleared his throat. 'You all ready to go, Mags?'

Her cheeks pink, Maggie nodded her head and giggled.

Richie strode over to her and scrambled his fingers at her sides until she squealed again and giggled harder. 'What's so funny, little miss?'

'Stop, stop!' she pleaded, and Richie relented. She hoisted a little blue backpack over her shoulders and rolled her eyes smugly as she walked to the car. 'I just didn't know I was interputting.'

'Interrupting,' Richie corrected, barely containing his own laughter. He let the chuckles leach out when he saw Eddie breaking into an easy smile, even with the colour flush in his cheeks. 'Very sorry that you had to see that, Mags.'

Maggie heaved open the door and scrambled into the back seat. 'It's okay. Poppy's mums kiss all the time because they love each other lots. She used to ask me why Daddy didn't kiss Mummy, but it's because Daddy loves you.'

Eddie's lips flattened as he tried to refrain from getting too emotional. So that Maggie wouldn’t see the glisten in his eyes, he ducked back into the driver's seat. Richie climbed into the seat next to him and placed one hand comfortingly on Eddie's thigh, knowing that Eddie didn't quite have words.

Richie leaned around his seat to catch Maggie's wide eyes. 'I love your Daddy lots too.'

'I know,' Maggie beamed proudly. 'Daddy's the Princess.'

Eddie groaned and lowered his forehead to the steering wheel. 'I cannot _believe_ you told her.'

'I had to!' Richie exclaimed. 'It's the end of the story, Eds. Can't leave a story without a decent ending.'

He glared at Richie. 'You can if you're Bill Denbrough.'

'Ha!' Richie cackled. 'Nice one, Spaghetti.'

Maggie howled with laughter, 'Did you just call Daddy 'Spaghetti' again? He _hates_ that.'

'No, he doesn't,' Richie mumbled smarmily, looking on outwards through the windscreen. 'Right. Shall we get this show on the road?'

'Can we have the music up loud?' Maggie begged. 'Please?'

Eddie sighed, 'Fine.'

\--

Maggie and Poppy's childish laughter in the ocean rippled out to Eddie and Richie's ears as they lounged on the sand beside Vanessa and Kimberley. The sun beat down mercilessly and Eddie was taking just about every opportunity to slather Richie's pinking skin with layers of sunblock.

'I'll look like a snowman in a minute!' Richie laughed, rubbing at the white streak slaked down the centre of his nose.

'I know how much of a pain you are when you get sunburn, Rich,' Eddie said. As he massaged his thumbs into Richie's shoulder blades, he added, 'Besides, are you really complaining?'

Richie groaned.

'You two are like a couple of horny teenagers,' Ness chuckled.

Kimberley just smiled serenely. 'Oh, don't you remember what you were like when we got together?'

Ness gawped, 'Me? _Me?_ You were a _nightmare_.'

'Please,' Kimberley lowered her sunglasses down over her eyes. 'Don't debase yourself with such things, Ness.'

When Ness lightly slapped her arm with the magazine she was reading, Eddie laughed, 'Well, Richie's always been a nightmare so I don't see things settling down anytime soon.'

'Oh,' Richie cooed, 'is that a challenge?'

'If you want it to be,' Eddie grinned.

Richie kissed him, firm and full.

'Well, well, well,' boomed a voice from behind them. 'Look what the Florida waters washed in.'

They broke apart and snapped their heads around. There stood Mike Hanlon, flanked on one side by a bronzed Beverley and Ben, and on the other side by Bill, Stan and their lovely brides, Audra and Patty.

'What the -?' Eddie spluttered, gobsmacked. 'How did you -? When did you all -? What are you all -? Hi!'

'Hi!' The chorus resounded back, and as soon as it did, Richie and Eddie were scrambling to their feet and bounding over to embrace their friends.

'Did you do this?' Eddie addressed Mike, beaming.

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist from behind. 'No, I did. Thought it was about time that we got the gang all back together. Besides, they haven’t met Maggie and she's just dying to meet all her childhood heroes.'

'Childhood whatnows?' Stan asked.

Eddie was still too stunned to respond, so Richie assisted. 'Oh, our Eddie Spaghetti could give Big Bill a run for his money when it comes to this writing malarkey. During our twenty-year separation, he's penned an odyssey of adventures for seven lovable misfits that have eerie resemblances to the Losers.'

'W-what?' Bill spluttered.

'And he's been reading them to our Mags since she was even littler than she is now, so don't be surprised if –'

He was cut off by a small voice over his shoulder. 'Daddy, who are all these people?'

Eddie found his voice as he bent down to hoist Maggie into his arms. 'Don't you recognise them?' Then he announced, 'Everyone, this is Maggie.'

'Hello,' she said, furrowing her brow as she studied their faces.

'Hi, Maggie.' Beverley said, stepping forwards.

'Holly Ringwand,' Maggie said very quietly.

Beverley laughed, 'Molly Ringwald, yeah! That's what Richie always used to call me. It's just a nickname though. She's an actress from the eighties. You can call me Bev.'

Maggie looked at her in awe. 'Hi. Bev.' Her eyes flicked to the man who was stood beside Beverley, then flicked to Richie. 'Jason?' she mouthed, and when Richie nodded and smiled, she gasped and blurted, 'You're the carpenter. You have a boat.'

Ben's cheeks flushed pink. 'Ben. I'm an architect now, but I did a carpentry apprenticeship when I was in my teens.' He cocked his head at Eddie. 'I can't believe you remembered that.'

'Bev and Ben,' Maggie tried to internalise, tried to shove out the names Holly and Jason, just as she'd replaced Steven with Richie. She looked at Mike. 'You're the Wise Man who lives on the farm.'

'Not anymore,' Mike said. 'Now I live here. So, I guess I'm the Wise Man who lives on the beach. Or Mike, if you'd rather.'

Maggie giggled. 'Okay. Mike.' Then she pursed her lips and flicked her eyes between the two men left, unsure which was which.

'D-do y-you know m-m-me?' Bill asked, and as his stutter escaped his lips, Maggie knew.

'Prince Sam!' she screeched, and Richie burst out laughing even as Beverley mooned at quite how much joy she saw in the little girl's face.

Eddie corrected, 'It's actually Bill.'

'P-P-Prince B-Bill,' Bill amended, and as Audra scolded him, he defended, 'D-don't you w-want to be a p-p-princess?'

'Not if I can be Queen.' Audra smirked.

'Oh, I like her,' Richie said to Bill, who proudly wrapped an arm around his wife.

'That means you're Danny Boy,' Maggie said to Stan. 'Who talks to the birds and lives in Atlantis.'

Patty chuckled, 'Crikey, she has you pegged.'

'Except it's Stan,' he said. 'But at least Stan rhymes with Dan, so that one should be easy to remember. Nice to meet you, Maggie.'

'Nice to meet you too,' she said, eyes wide and shining as the characters from her stories stepped out of the pages and into her reality.

Mike jerked a thumb over his shoulders. 'There's a nice outdoor cocktail place down on the waterfront. Shall we go and have a few drinks?'

Instinctively, Eddie shot Richie a look. Richie rested a hand on Eddie's shoulder to assure him that everything would be alright. 'I could really go for a Virgin Mary.'

'That just sounds dirty when you say it,' Bev laughed.

'Ironically, I'm saying it because I'm clean,' Richie jested.

'A whole year clean,' Eddie bragged, immensely proud.

Stan shook his head, 'You should've known that the way to Eddie's heart is cleanliness.'

Richie scoffed, 'Oh, I had his heart long before I was clean. This is just why he lets me stay in the house.'

Eddie put Maggie down and told her to run and fetch the others to see if they wanted to join the group for drinks.

'She's so adorable, Eddie,' Ben gushed, almost teary.

'Thanks,' Eddie said hesitantly. 'You okay there, Ben?'

'Yeah,' he whimpered.

Beverley rolled her eyes. 'Oh, Ben. We said we'd wait until a little bit later so that we didn't snatch Richie and Eddie's thunder.'

'I know, but I don't think I can,' Ben wheezed.

'Wait for what?' Mike asked.

Bev bit her lip and turned to face the group. Her hands were on her stomach. 'We're going to have a baby.'

After a cacophony of congratulations, Richie clapped his hand on her shoulder. 'Virgin Marys all round.'

\--

Eddie slid open the balcony door of their hotel suite and stepped out onto the patio. It was still warm, even at this time of night. Restaurants were closing, the beaches were empty, and the moon lit up full and bright, dappling its light over the ocean.

He heard Richie come out to join him and instinctively leaned his head backwards as Richie's chest came flush with his shoulder blades.

'I can't believe they all came,' Eddie said.

'Of course they came.'

Eddie hummed. 'It just really feels now like it's all okay. Like it's all really over. Just to see them here. Not in Derry. Not over a phone. Just away from it all. Audra's actually a person now, not just a face I've seen in magazines or on a silver screen. Patty and Stan: they're perfect together. She's so hopelessly in love with him and she wants everyone to see it. Ben and Bev are going to have a baby. And Mike's finally let it all go. No more Maine. No more farm. It's his life now.'

Richie grunted his agreement. 'Strange that this is actually the first time we've all seen each other outside of that town.'

'It is. And they're all doing so well.' Eddie choked.

'Eds? You okay? Richie asked, squeezing ever so slightly.

'It just made me realise that this, all of this, isn't going anywhere. This is my life. It's our life. It's you and me and Maggie and it really can be that good. I really can be this happy.'

Richie wrapped his arms tighter around Eddie and burrowed his chin into Eddie's neck. 'So this is what you want? You want it to be like this forever?'

'God, yes,' Eddie sighed. 'Don't you?'

Letting go, Richie stepped out to stand beside Eddie as they both looked out over the ocean. He reached into his pocket and placed its contents on the ledge of the balcony between them. 'Of course I do.'

'Rich? What's that?' Eddie asked querulously, staring at the object.

Richie tilted his head and smiled nervously at him. 'Open it.'

Eddie did. Then he exhaled raggedly, needing a moment to compose himself before he regained Richie's gaze.

'Come on, Eds,' Richie said, twisting his feet anxiously. 'You didn't really think I'd let Ben and Bev steal our thunder, did you?'

'Richie,' Eddie managed weakly. 'Are you asking me to -?'

'Yeah,' he nodded. 'Will you marry me?'

Eddie didn't say anything. He couldn't. But the tremor in his lips soon exploded into a nod, and then he could hardly control his body at all as he lunged to draw Richie closer, pulled his face down to kiss again and again.

'Yes,' he said eventually, somewhere between breaths. 'Yes.'

Richie broke into a smile that became too wide for Eddie to keep showering him with kisses. 'You're gonna marry me?'

'Fuck yes,' Eddie exclaimed, and only then did he reach to prise the ring from its case to slide onto his finger. 'I can't believe you actually got me a fucking diamond.'

Richie bit his lip. 'I debated just going for the classic gold band, but I figured you could get one of those at the wedding. For the engagement ring, I _had_ to go with the princess cut.'

Eddie burst out laughing, 'You are such a piece of shit.'

'You're gonna marry me.' It was just about the softest and kindest version of Richie's voice that Eddie had ever heard.

'I'm gonna marry you,' Eddie gushed, kissing him once more, hands clamped on either side of his neck, one now proudly displaying the ring. 'Wow. When should we tell Maggie?'

'She's probably still waiting up,' Richie rolled his eyes. 'She's been so excited.'

'Wait,' Eddie held up his palm. 'She knew you were going to ask?'

Richie scoffed, 'Of course. She'd be furious if I hadn’t told her in advance. Needed to get her blessing. She even helped me go ring-shopping.'

Eddie shook his head and tears brewed in his eyes even as he smiled. 'You are fucking unbelievable, you know?'

'Count on it,' Richie winked, pulling Eddie in for a hug. 'Want to go and tell her?'

'Yeah!' Eddie spluttered. 'I do.'

'Oh, sounds like you're practicing for the wedding already,' Richie cooed.

Eddie grabbed his hand and started to pull him inside. 'Come on, you.'

They clamoured inside and unsurprisingly, Maggie was propped up in her bed when they opened the door.

'Hey, Mags,' Richie greeted, seating himself on one side of her bed.

'You're both being extremely noisy,' she huffed.

Eddie perched himself on the other side. 'We have a good reason.'

Her body straightened, perking up, and she shifted a glance at Richie, who simply said to her, 'I asked.'

She whipped around to face her father, fists gripping at the bedsheets, 'What did you say?'

Eddie held up his hand for her to see. 'I said yes.'

She jumped up and threw her arms around Eddie's neck and squeezed. 'I knew you would, I knew it. Are you happy? Can I be a bridesmaid?'

'Absolutely, you will be a bridesmaid,' Eddie agreed. 'You can wear a white dress if you want, because I don't think either of us will be wearing one.'

'Speak for yourself,' Richie chirped.

Eddie pinched her cheek, and Richie couldn't help but think of all the times he'd pinched Eddie's cheeks when they were kids, crying out, 'Cute, cute, cute!'

'Right,' Eddie began, 'I know it's all very exciting but we'll celebrate properly tomorrow. Do you think you can sleep now?'

She nodded. 'Night, daddy. I love you.'

'Night, darling,' he said, then dotted a kiss on her forehead. 'I love you too.'

'Night, Mags,' Richie said, holding his hand up for a high-five. 'We did it.'

She gave the high-five gleefully, then threw her arms around Richie as far as she could. 'Yeah, we did.'

'Love you.'

'Love you too.' She closed her eyes tight. 'Dad.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap ! thank you to everyone for reading :) your lovely comments and kudos keep me writing - and I'm glad there are still others like me who aren't over the clown movie gays. Come and find me on tumblr @intouchwithhumanity-ao3 or @peel-back :) sending you all love during these strange times xx


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